


Dolor In Regeneratione

by BrightRedSunset88



Category: Beetlejuice (1988)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smoking, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Trauma, beetlebabes, like a REALLY slow burn, surprise elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24075010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightRedSunset88/pseuds/BrightRedSunset88
Summary: Betelgeuse stumbled out of the brothel, having his fill of whores for one night.  And yet, a certain raven-haired beauty continued to plague his mind...  THIS WORK IS CURRENTLY AND POSSIBLY PERMANENTLY ABANDONED.
Relationships: Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 44
Kudos: 119





	1. Sensus

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place 5 months after the film. Beetlejuice is owned by Tim Burton, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Haze. That's what his mind was; a haze. It's been months since he's been eaten by that damn sandworm. Months since his sickeningly sweet few minutes of freedom, his full return to power to reek havoc on those damn ghosts and that good for nothing family.

_Months since that sweet little temptress said his name._

He shook his head as he threw back another slosh of beer, reclining on the torn up couch in his house.

Of course she was on his mind. She was the only smart one out of everyone in that house. The Maitlands didn't know shit about scaring people, Chuck and Red's brains were too unstable to function properly, and those rich-up-to-their-hairlines bozos didn't even think about what they were in for when they arrived, wanting to see their precious "ghost amusement park".

Betelgeuse chuckled to himself, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Yes, all those other idiots were just shit-for-brains, using it all for fun, not knowing the real consequences of it all that would have come back sooner or later to take a nice, big chomp out of their asses.

But that girl...what was her name?

Dammit, he didn't even know her name.

_You asshole._

He growled to himself, his hands tearing at his matted, wild blonde hair.

_The one decent human fucking being out of all those losers and you didn't even figure out her damn name._

He snapped back more beer in frustration and humiliation, shaking his head to try and brush it off.

She was an interesting little thing, that was for damn sure. She wasn't like any other women, no sir. All those other dead whores were too typical and bland. The ghost would bed them in attempts to quench his thirst for some, _any_ kind of action or thrill, but each time it ended the same. Every time he came was disappointing, so he would immediately disconnect from them and throw them out, "cleaning" up and redressing quickly while cursing at himself. 

Same shit happened when he was alive. Only twice before in his life before his untimely demise had he fallen head over heels for someone. And yet, both times ended in torturous agony. The first heartbreak had driven him to becoming an alcoholic. He stole mead whenever he could, throwing it back until he violently threw up in loads. He would cackle like a maniac while he tossed empty bottles at the rotting, plague infested corpses on the streets in hopes to escape his grueling pain. 

The second time...

Betelgeuse shuddered. No. He couldn't think of it, not now.

Another giant swig of beer, another empty bottle tossed carelessly at the wall, smashing into pieces onto the dirty, dusty floor.

Instead of venturing further into revisting his past trauma, he took a mental step back and refocused his mind... _on her._

The Deetz girl was, indeed, quite attractive. When he first laid on eyes on her as he scared the Deetzes and that fatty in his snake form, a new sort of energy sparked in him. Even though she cowered from him and into the wall, the brief glance of her face set off an immediate spark. When he was forced back into the model by the Maitlands before he could do any more damage, his fury at them was replaced by his natural animalistic need to fuck someone until he was bone dry. And hey, it had been over 600 years since he got any action. So when Dante's Inferno made a sudden but grand appearance, the ghost wasted no time in claiming his voluptuous prizes. While he wouldn't admit this out loud, not even to himself, not only did he go in for some much needed action, he did it to try to fuck away the thoughts of the Deetz girl. While it somewhat worked, his plan was screwed once again when he _officially_ met her in the attic. Her gorgeous voice immediately grabbed a hold of his ears and his mind, once again setting off that spark. When he removed the cucumbers off his eyes and gazed up at her, the next words that came out of his mouth were the truest words he's spoken in a long ass time.

_"You know, you look like somebody I can relate to."_

His tone was slimy just like his reputation and his lack of hygiene, but he was damn serious.

At once, he wanted to get to know her better, to develop a connection with her. And when she spoke those five shocking words, _"I want to get in."_ the ghost couldn't believe his ears. This lovely, smart goth teen, who was the only one who could make a decent living (or existence, rather) out of everyone in the house wanted to _die??_ To exist in an eternal fucking _depression??!!_

She was smart in every way, yet she didn't know how damn lucky she was to be alive. Because of this, Betelgeuse wanted to shake her and scream at her at how lucky she was to not be in an eternal loop of a hell hole. Instead, after those few seconds of taken aback silence, he just asked, _"Why?"_

And believe it or not, he actually wanted to hear her reasoning. But this was sadly taken away by the immediate recollection of his crave for freedom, so once again, he threw on his sleazy salesman act that he's done thousands of times over. While he was intrigued by this lovely goth, he couldn't let his reputation or goal slip away. He could deal with his fascination for her later.

When he juiced her into that lovely red wedding dress, his mind turned into putty, cause DAMN was she beautiful!

Through his entire shebang of terrorizing the Deetzes, freeing the Maitlands, and scaring the fat rich asshole shitless (his near favorite part of the whole chaotic drama), he had to remind himself that the girl was still underage. Of course it was obvious, but she was clearly at puberty age, sixteen at the youngest. If she was any younger, this whole thing would have been even more disgusting. Sleazeball, pervert, whatever he was, he was not going to be some fucking pedo. She was a teenager, but she wasn't a damn child. As gross as the ghost was, he would not stoop that low. Sixteen was his absolute minimum, and he got lucky with her. 

His brain halted. He allowed his fascination for the girl, which then further prompted respect for her. This wedding was strictly a green card marriage, which he promised. He wouldn't touch her without permission, because he wasn't about that life either. Every woman he fucked gave consent, and every woman who didn't give consent he immediately let them go before shit got worse. Pervert he was, but a pervert for decency and consent (mostly. He still planted a big one on Barbara and lifted her dress to take a look at the goodies, but he would never outright rape anyone. Yuck).

His mind spun. All he wanted was a green card marriage, his freedom, and then some time to get to know his wife and maybe even develop a bond with her.

_Maybe even have a real marriage at some point._

The Beetle gnashed his teeth again before taking another drag. A few minutes later he crushed the cigarette under his boot before near dragging himself to bed. After all those thoughts swimming through his mind, he needed the much needed rest.

And rest he did, with dreams of a certain, hooded eyed, raven haired beauty lulling him and keeping him in a peaceful slumber.


	2. Incertus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia can't stop thinking about a certain wild poltergeist...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kudos, comments, etc.! Your support means a lot!

Jumble. That's what her mind was; a jumble.

It's been months since Lydia's world changed when she moved to Winter River, Connecticut. Months since she met the Maitlands, the sweetest couple anyone could ask for.

_Months since she almost got hitched to that awful, terrible, disgusting...man whorpse!_

Her stomach churned just at the thought of him and she squeezed her eyes shut, praying that she didn't puke up the gross dinner that Delia cooked for the family that night. It was almost as gross as _him!_

She sighed through clenched teeth as his name, that infamous name that she'll never forget for the rest of her life, took a vice grip onto her mind.

_Beetlejuice._

Of all the names in the existence of ever, he just had to have _that name??_ While the goth teen did find bugs and creepy crawlies quite interesting, her admiration for them nearly took a lunge back due to that slimy ghost with that damn _bug beverage_ name! Yuck!! Who in their right mind would find something like that even _drinkable???_

Her nerves all fired up, she needed to distract herself. She yanked herself off her bed, making her way down to her dark room in the basement. She needed to finish a photography project for school anyway.

Lydia was always different from other girls. Instead of being obsessed with make up and boys, her mind and heart were naturally drawn to Halloween, bugs, monsters and other ingredients that made up a nice, chilling horror recipe. A perfect recipe to make a perfect, delicious adventure for a certain goth girl to eat up her fill. When she was only four years old, she captured her first spider to show off at show and tell. Her mother, Emily, was so proud of Lydia for being her brave little girl. While most other kids and the teachers were disgusted by the eight legged varmont, their opinions never wavered Lydia's interest in the slightest.

As Lydia worked on processing the film of the pictures she took earlier that day, her mind continued to wander. She missed her mother. Emily Deetz died when Lydia was thirteen, and that's when the teen's world shattered. While all her life Lydia was drawn to the spooky and scary, it all turned even darker when Emily passed on. Ever since then, the goth was never truly happy. She continued to mourn, even when her father moved on and swept Delia off her art loving feet. How he did it she didn't know how; after his nervous breakdown in New York, he's always been one to knock at anxiety's creaky door.

 _"Try to relax,"_ Charles would mutter to himself repeatedly while tensing up and sweating nervously. 

Lydia's pictures came out perfectly, and she smiled at herself, proud. It wasn't a full smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. Photography was the only thing to come even close enough to help her be at peace after her mother's passing. She still wasn't sure if she was going to go to college, but she knew that whatever path she took, photography would become her lifelong career, one way or another.

Lydia took a last look at her developed masterpieces: a spider standing on a quarter, a tall old tree on its last limb towering over a swampy marsh, the bridge that the Maitlands have driven over one last time before their fate, and a Baltimore Oriole perching on the window next to the front door of the Deetz house. The goth's natural skill for photography made her the best photographer in the school, even if not the most popular girl.

Satisfied with her work, she made her way upstairs, ready to fall into a deep sleep. Tomorrow would be Friday, the project deadline, and she would have all of the weekend to relax (unlike her father, who tried so hard to do so) and take pictures for fun. Since she was quite introverted, she didn't hang out with anyone after school. While she's made some acquaintances, she still had that nagging fear of being made fun of for taking a liking to bugs and horror. She had hoped, even though it was an all girls school, hence the name, she would find somebody, _anybody_ to share her strange and unusual interests, but she had no luck. They all stuck to gossip, boys and fashion, and she had stuck with haunted houses, ghouls and beasts. As long as they stayed on their side and she stayed on hers, everything would be at least bearable until she graduated. So all she could do during the weekends was snap photos, develop them, or just lounge around while trying to avoid Delia and her nagging.

Lydia passed by where Delia's sculptures sat, her eyes taking a natural glance at th- _oh no._

It was a split second, but her eyes met the ones of the snake sculpture. As she knew, it wasn't a sculpture of any snake, _it was him._

She darted up to her room, quickly slamming the door behind her.

_Why did Delia make that damn thing!?_

Her heart was racing but she forced herself to calm down. One would think of after having that ugly thing in the house for some months now, Lydia would be able to stomach looking at it.

They would be wrong.

She still didn't understand. Why did he take a special interest to her? Why did he almost force her to _marry him!?_

None of it made sense. She just wanted at least a semi-normal life with as little problems as possible. While she welcomed the Maitlands in quite easily into her life, of course the exact opposite could be said about that reeking slimeball. What was his deal anyway?

Oh yeah, of course. To be free. To rain chaos on the house, then the town, and maybe at some point the world, if he was powerful enough. How could she forget? He claimed himself to be the "Ghost with the Most", using those exact words as he sat atop of the model brothel in nothing but a robe.

That was their first _real_ meeting, since the snake encounter was a sloppy start. As she gazed down at the lounging ghost curiously, more questions raced through her mind about the afterlife. Was this what it was like? Was it like this forever? Was there ever an end? Did the Handbook mention any of this? Even though Lydia had flipped through the manual, she didn't grind her way through it.

The ghost had said that the afterlife _"was just too creepy"_ (while taking a huge bite out of a giant beetle to unconciously emphasize his point) and yet Lydia was still too miserable to want to live, so the words slipped out of her in a sad, heavy mumble: _"I want to get in."_

She had noticed that these words stopped the poltergeist in his tracks, and for a few seconds something changed in the air, and it wasn't the smell of the attic.

 _"Why?"_ He had asked.

And he seemed quite serious in asking that question too. 

She was going to answer him, and answer honestly too, but at once his sleazy salesman act was put back on, asking her through desperate and slimy teeth to help him become free once more.

Later, while the Maitlands were being exorcised, Lydia knew Betelgeuse was the only one to help. But when he asked for something in return, to become free by marriage to be exact, Lydia's mind spun. Her friends were dying, _again,_ and this jerk was just taking his good old time. Not having any time to think of it and merely focusing on freeing the Maitlands, she agreed. Unfortunately, his methods became even _more un-_ Orthodox the closer he got to his freedom. He scared the shit out of her and her family, he let the Maitlands suffer a bit longer while messing around before helping them, and he forced her to say yes to marrying him by stealing her voice! Lydia was in for it, and as he yanked her hand and nearly stuck the ring on her finger, she believed she was doomed forever. Whatever she would be to him, whether a sex slave or just a housewife/slave in general that he would just throw around, she wanted no part of it. Luckily Barbara saved the day by plunging through the roof riding a sandworm, letting it devour the ghost and the hopes of his freedom along with him.

As Lydia lay in bed staring at the ceiling, she thought about what could have happened. What if the wedding went through? What would happen to her? Would she spend the rest of her eternity in the netherworld with him as his housewife? Just a sex toy for him to mess around with when he was bored? Would he get her involved in his schemes, using her as bait? She had no idea, and luckily she didn't have to find out.

Her head shook suddenly as different thoughts popped up in her head.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, there were times where he was almost _funny_ during the ceremony. The way he stumbled and tripped as they made their way in front of the priest, how he screeched in his attempt to stop Barbara from saying his name, and his surprising...uh, tap dance maybe?...at when he tried to step on Adam's fallen out teeth, followed by a bellowed, "SCRAM!" then "COME ON!" at the priest after his return to the alter.

Wait, what?? _Funny?_

Lydia shook her head and grunted in frustration. He was about to damn her to a life, or existence rather, of hell, and here she was laughing at his antics.

After changing into her pajamas and with a flick of the lights, Lydia flopped back down, _again,_ hoping to rid that damn pest from her mind for at least the night. As sleep claimed her, luck was on her side. Any more thoughts of the ghost faded away as she fell into a still and dreamless slumber.


	3. Iterum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When old habits just won't die...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for our ghost to finally return to see Lydia, but not before some old, frustrating habits ensue...

The next day, Betelgeuse woke up to the sound of a small pitter patter close to his ear. He knew that sound all too well.

In a flash, the poltergeist smashed the beetle under his fingers before tossing it into his mouth with a loud _CRUNCH!_ After a satisfactory grunt, he washed it down with a leftover unfinished bottle of beer from who knows when. It's been sitting in his room for too long, so it was about damn time that it got finished.

CRASH!

Another broken beer bottle on the floor, another miserable day in the afterlife.

After fishing out a cigarette and taking a few smokes, The Beetle dragged himself into his "living" room (how fucking appropriate) and stretched out on the rickety, moldy couch.

He recalled how he got this shitty excuse of a house in the first place. After being eaten by the sandworm that that bitch Babs sicked on him, the ghost somehow found his way out of the damn pest a few days later. While he was scratched up pretty bad and his wedding tuxedo was torn up, he managed to get free of that fucker. He dragged himself around Saturn for about an hour, letting sand fill up his shoes and suit. As soon as he had regained enough strength and composure after that shitstorm, The Beetle attempted to juice himself back to his house... or a bar, or strip club, or anywhere except for this goddamn planet.

Anger had boiled up inside him when no powers came out of him, and he immediately knew who was responsible for it.

_FUCKING JUNO!!!_

It was as if she could read his mind, for as soon as he mentally screamed at her for taking away his powers, he found himself in the Netherworld waiting room. 

And damn, was he pissed. At least he wasn't on Saturn anymore.

Later, after tricking that witch doctor into giving him the next number (number 4 to be exact) to get an appointment and getting his head shrunk, he was back in Juno's office.

_"You absolute ASSHOLE!" Juno shouted at him. "You MANIAC!"_

_"Hiya, Junes," Betelgeuse greeted with a fake, shit eating grin. "It's about damn time I got the fuck out of that place."_

_"Do you have any idea what you've DONE?!!" The caseworker yelled, referring to the chaos that the poltergeist ripped out at the Deetz-Maitland household._

_"They should be fucking_ thanking _me!" Betelgeuse sneered. "I saved those two idiots from exorcism by those rich, good-for-nothing bozos and here I am seen as the criminal!"_

_"You shot two people through the roof causing them serious injuries and you almost MARRIED an UNDERAGE TEENAGER AGAINST HER WILL!"_

_"Hey! Did I kill those two fuckers? Nope! And it's not like I was gonna do anything to my future wife. All she had to do was ask."_

_"You're disgusting," Juno snarled. "Now look at all this paperwork I have to do because of you!"_

_"Thanks," The ghost smirked, leaning back in his chair and plopping his feet up on her cluttered desk._

_"Well guess what, you son of a bitch," Juno glared at him._

He didn't have to guess, he already knew. Juno forced him to work for her for 3 breather months, and The Beetle was set back to his old routine like all those decades ago.

After those 3 gruelling and very strict months, Juno fired him so he could just "get out of her hair". She didn't let him off easy though; she promised him an excruciating trip to the Lost Souls' Room if he tried to cause any more chaos. 

Instead of returning to his grave in the Maitlands' model, Betelgeuse found an old crappy house. Hey, anything to have more room to stretch out or fuck around. From then on, The Beetle trashed the house even more with alcohol, drugs, and excess cum from him and the whores that he brought back to screw. While he cleaned up the sticky messes after his romps with those whores, he left the bottles and various drugs lying around, only flicking them away when space got too cluttered to even walk through.

Now here he was, silently wasting away in his house as the Deetz girl plagued his mind.

He snarled, tearing at his hair. _Why_ couldn't he get _rid of her???_

Without wasting another second, he stomped out his cigarette then juiced himself to the nearest strip club he could find.

The flashing sign read _Hard Bones,_ with flyers of "Three Girls for a Low Price!" and "Unable to Pleasure Yourself? Let our Dames do the work for you! Extra pay for Oral" displayed proudly in the windows.

Hey, it was no Dante's Inferno, but it would do for now.

Strutting through the doors as if he owned the place, the poltergeist's eyes landed on two half naked and curvy ghouls sleazily working their way up and down their poles. A smirk made its way onto his face as desire began to burn inside of him.

He walked past the other tables of drooling and moaning men, making his way up to the stage and tipping the two dead women quite generously.

"Hey," He greeted huskily, waggling his eyebrows at them. "Wanna head to the back and let this old ghost show ya how it's done?"

The two ghouls peered down at him before they snaked their way off the stage, carelessly announcing to the crowd, "Sorry boys, show's over."

"Hehehe!" The Beetle chuckled to himself as he slung his arms over the two ghouls. One of them reached down to brush his crotch, and the ghost jolted in surprise.

"Ooh, anxious little minx, aren't ya?"

As soon as they made their way to the back rooms in the VIP lounge, The Beetle began stripping one of the dancers while latching his mouth onto her throat. He was half hard as he ground against her, letting the other dancer watch patiently.

"You know I'm here too, right," The waiting dancer informed impatiently. "I don't have all day."

"Yeah yeah, let the B guy do his work first," Betelgeuse snarled as his hand snaked down between the other dancer's legs, making her moan. "If ya want something done right, ya gotta do it on my terms. Besides, I'm the one who's paying _you._ So don't get bitchy with me or ya ain't getting no more tips."

And for the next hour, the ghost had all the control in the room...almost.

..................

Betelgeuse stumbled out of the brothel, having his fill of whores for one night. And yet, a certain raven-haired beauty continued to plague his mind...

"DAMMIT!!!" He shouted, tearing at his wild hair. Of course those two bitches couldn't satisfy him enough. No slut could ever get the Deetz girl out of his mind, no matter how hard he tried or how hard he _was._

He stopped himself, taking a breath before thinking. Maybe a quick check up on the goth would stop his mind from thinking of her for more than 5 minutes.

Before he made a move though, he headed briskly to a dark alleyway to jerk himself off. He didn't get to finish with those two dancers; they wouldn't let him due to his rude behavior. That was one thing they wouldn't let him do.

Betelgeuse quickly shoved down his pants and boxers, only getting a few strokes in before he spurted all over the brick wall. He quickly pulled his clothes back up and flicked the mess away to clear away the evidence that he was there. Growling at himself, he finally juiced himself to his destination; Lydia's mirror.

He snickered to himself. He couldn't believe that Juno forgot to close the portal between him and Lydia. One would think after forcing the girl into an unwilling near marriage, Juno would do anything to keep The Beetle from visiting her again. Looks like she forgot due to her mile high stack of paperwork.

Letting that last thought leave him, Betelgeuse finally took a good look inside the goth's room. Grey walls, black bedsheets and pillows on a queen, tall dark brown wardrobe, and a matching dark brown desk with her school books and a lamp on it. Simple room. The only thing missing was the teenager herself.

Where was she?

He didn't have to wonder for long.

The door slowly creaked open, and the ghost turned himself invisible right before he could be seen.

Lydia walked in her room, closing the door behind her. She noticed the abrupt drop in temperature and shivered.

 _Huh,_ she thought. _I thought Delia left the heater on._

She took off her backpack and shoes, flopping on her bed. Thank God it was a Friday. She had finally turned in her photography project, now all she had to do was wait until Monday to see how it was graded.

Betelgeuse took this time to look her over. Her jet black hair splayed out on the pillow, blending in well with it. Her lovely, chocolate brown eyes gazed up at the ceiling. Her pale face looked so soft and calm. Her body relaxed and rested on the bed, almost as if Lydia was inviting The Beetle to join her.

Just peering down at the goth from the mirror, Betelgeuse felt more at ease, and even he started to relax.

After a few minutes, Lydia stood again, making her way to her clothes drawers.

_Shit._

The poltergeist could feel himself getting hard again, and this time, it was much easier.

 _Keep it down, you asshole!_ He reminded himself. _She hasn't even DONE anything yet!_

He forced his eyes away, even though he could hear the goth changing out of her school uniform and into her regular black garb.

As soon as the familiar rustle of clothes was finished, he turned back around...and almost _jumped._

She was right there. Looking at the mirror. Just inches away from him.

The Beetle almost had a heart attack, but remembered that he was still invisible.

Lydia sat down in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. All the wind blowing through her hair from biking back home would definitely rustle it up.

Betelgeuse was frozen stiff. He was afraid that even though she couldn't see him, one move would reveal that he was there.

He inwardly scolded himself again. He was the toughest and most powerful ghoul in the Netherworld, yet here he was nearly _cowering_ before his ex-fiancee, a _teenager_ nonetheless!

Suddenly, Lydia stopped brushing.

_Oh shit._

The two of them stayed frozen still, the ghost staring at his ex-fiancee, his ex-fiancee staring right back even though she couldn't see him.

_Can she see me? She can't see me...right?_

For a few solid moments, neither of them dared to move. Hell, even time itself seemed to stop moving. The only sound that resonated through the air was the soft call of birds chirping in the distance and Delia's cooking downstairs in the kitchen.

Lydia's face was serious, and she slowly put the brush down and crossed her arms in front of her, keeping her eyes glued to the seemingly empty mirror.

_Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit shitshitshitshit..._

"Lydia!" Delia called up from the kitchen. "Dinner!"

"In a minute!" Lydia called back, still not looking away from the mirror.

After a moment the girl stood up slowly, still not breaking eye contact. The Beetle's eyes followed her, and he swore that his heart could have started beating again.

At once, Lydia tore her gaze from the mirror and briskly walked out of her room, shutting the door quickly and loudly behind her.

All that was left in her room was a dazed and frozen poltergeist.


	4. Metus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A frightened Lydia is unsure of what to do.

He was back. She knew it.

Lydia sat at the dinner table nearly trembling with fear, with Delia eating away at her seafood without a care in the world and Charles merely picking at it.

How could he be back? He got eaten by that sandworm!

While she was unable to see him in the mirror, she could sure as hell feel him. Hell, she could almost even _smell_ him!

The temperature drop in Lydia's bedroom meant nothing to her at first, merely thinking Delia forgot to turn the heat on, but then she remembered how it was early fall. It couldn't be that cool yet in mid-September!

That's when she had stopped brushing her hair and felt the sudden atmosphere change in the room. Just because she couldn't see him, it didn't mean that she wasn't able to feel his presence.

But why was he _back?_ To seal the deal? To get revenge? Whatever the reason, Lydia knew it wouldn't be good.

"Lydia, I've spent _hours_ making this fish steak and lobster tail dinner. It will do you no good to just sit there and pick at your food like a- Charles, you've got something on your face, dear."

With a sigh and an eye roll, Lydia forced a forkful of seasoned lobster into her mouth.

"Honey, your mother put a lot of hard work into this dish," Charles reminded before taking a sip of his wine. "There's no use in wasting a perfectly good meal."

"Why thank you, Charles," Delia nodded in appreciation. "See, your father can understand all the hard work I'm doing."

Lydia wanted to burst. They just didn't understand. How can her father and step mother go back to being perfectly normal as if that whole mess 5 months ago didn't happen? Sure, people have to move on at some point, but it's all like it never happened. They've never spoken about it, not as a family, not with the Maitlands, not at all. First Charles moved on from Emily after her death, and now he and Delia have swept the newer chaotic mess under the rug as well. Why? Why wouldn't they just _listen_ to Lydia for once? All she was was a burden to them, a depressed and heavy burden.

Her appetite lost due to the return of _him,_ Lydia pushed her plate farther from her and stood, excusing herself before dashing up to the attic. She needed to talk with the Maitlands, and _fast._

"Adam? Barbara?" She called after entering the attic, closing the door behind her.

"Lydia?"

Lydia's head snapped towards the voice, which belonged to Barbara, who hurried right up to Lydia along with Adam. 

The two ghosts were so happy to see their goddaughter. After her almost being married off to that scum bag, the Maitlands have been extra grateful that Lydia escaped safely and has become emotionally stronger from it. Ever since they started recovering after the poltergeist got devoured, the 3 of them studied the Handbook diligently, searching for other ways to get rid of other pests who wanted to interfere with their lives and afterlives. Lydia even got to go to the Netherworld and meet Juno.

_"Don't worry, it should be fine," Adam coaxed Lydia to the open brick door._

_Lydia hesitated at first, but after going through that whore ghost's mess, Lydia could withstand almost anything._

_She cautiously followed the Maitlands into the Netherworld, the smoke and bright green atmosphere swallowing the three of them in and the brick door shutting behind._

_Lydia coughed and squinted as the bright green smoke clouded her vision._

_"You'll get used to it," Barbara reassured her. "It'll be like this for a few minutes, but after this we'll be at the waiting room. There we'll be able to talk with Juno and discuss about all this."_

_"Who's Juno?" Lydia questioned._

_"She's our caseworker," Adam replied as they continued walking. "She tried warning us about B- uh, him, but we didn't listen."_

_"Worst decision we've made in our afterlife so far, it could only go up from here," Barbara added._

_"What did she tell you about him?" Lydia asked hesitantly._

_"Well, you pretty much know everything now," Barbara said. "Trouble maker, terrible with people, and terrible with hygiene."_

_Lydia couldn't help but crack a smile and a small giggle at the joke. All their moods needed to be lightened up anyway for a short time before meeting with the piercing caseworker._

_"Okay, we'll be there any second now, might wanna watch your st-oof!"_

_Adam tripped through the wooden revolving door once again, causing a few small chuckles from the other dead people in the small room._

_Lydia's eyes widened. She was only used to seeing Adam, Barbara and Betelgeuse, who, even though were dead, they were put together and the causes of their deaths didn't show. These people here on the other hand..._

_One of them had a tight rope around their throat, indicating a hanging. Whether by suicide or lynching, that part wasn't able to be spotted. Another person sat in the corner, his hair springing out at all ends like static, his shirt and skin burnt through pretty bad. Two others sat on the couch with huge, deep scratches and bite marks on their torsos and legs. The guy who died from lung cancer and smoking in his bed was still there from the first time the Maitlands entered the room. He attempted a small "hey" at the Maitlands before returning to his cigarette that trembled along with his shaking, burnt hands. Lastly, the witch doctor that shrunk Betelgeuse's head sat closest to the door, the number that the wiley poltergeist tricked him into taking crumpled in his hands._

_"Um..." Lydia stuttered. She was far from used to this._

_"Don't worry, no one's gonna hurt you," Adam said to her softly as he and Barbara led her forward._

_They made their way to the window and Adam knocked. As usual it opened abruptly._

_"Oh, it's you again," The receptionist rolled her eyes. "What do you want now? And who's this?"_

_"Miss Argentina, we really need to speak with Juno," Barbara pleaded. "It's an emergency."_

_"Again? So now you see the trouble you've caused to the living, eh? Letting that hijo de puta run around and stir up all sorts of trouble."_

_"That's why we're back," Adam informed her._

_"No," Miss Argentina replied firmly. "You've had your chance. Now either leave or wait your turn like everybody else."_

_"What's all this ruckus?" A raspy voice asked from the back._

_"Juno!" Adam called as the old woman's head and curl of smoke came into view through the window._

_"I can't believe you two," Juno seethed, shaking her head and tapping her cigarette. "And now you- oh great, you brought the living girl here!"_

_Lydia shrunk back into her godparents. She shouldn't have come..._

_"We need to speak with you, now," Adam demanded._

_"You know the consequences," Juno waved her hand. "Go read the damn Handbook if you need help, I got all this paperwork to finish."_

_"No," Barbara defended. "We're not leaving until we settle this."_

_Juno stood there for a moment before caving and ushering them in._

_"Okay, get in here quickly. We don't need everyone seeing a breather in here."_

_The four made their way into Juno's cluttered office which hung above the factory of workers below. Lydia took a quick look at her surroundings. Why does everything have to be so green?_

_"Okay, sit down," Juno demanded to the ghosts before turning to Lydia. "You, what's your name?"_

_"Lydia Deetz," The goth replied shyly, almost sadly._

_"Do you have any idea what trouble you caused when you let Betelgeuse out of the model?"_

_"Hey hey hey, don't start putting the blame on her," Adam defended. "It's our fault, we should have told her about him."_

_"You're damn right you should have," Juno slammed down a stack of papers. "That was what, half an hour ago? The whole marriage thing?"_

_"I didn't know what to do," Lydia said._

_"Clearly," The caseworker scoffed, rolling her eyes and taking a drag. "I've told these two before and I'm tellin' you now, never call on him for help!"_

_Sure, that made everything a whole lot better. Not._

_After some disagreements, reminders and more eye rolling, Lydia and the Maitlands left the Netherworld, heading back home._

_Juno sighed, taking a short break before sending in her next client... a certain trouble maker with a striped suit._

"He's back," Lydia said frantically. "I- I couldn't see him, but he's back..." Tears began forming in her eyes.

"Wait, what?" Barbara asked.

"How do you know?" Adam added.

"I could feel him...his energy..."

"We have to talk to Juno, _now,_ " Barbara said, making her way to the semi-hidden door in the brick wall.

"Honey, wait," Adam stopped her before returning to Lydia. "Are you sure, Lydia?"

"I'm sure," She affirmed. "I don't know what he wants."

"Maybe we should just look in the Handbook," Adam said, picking up said object and flipping hurriedly through the pages. "Barbara, do you know if there's anything in here on keeping other ghosts away? Barriers?"

"I hate to say this, but if he comes back I don't think there's a way to prevent it," Barbara shrugged. "At least we can put him back if he does."

"That's true," Adam agreed.

The two ghosts pondered for a moment before remembering the model. At once they checked on it, carefully moving cars and picking up trees and buildings to see if the poltergeist was hiding anywhere.

"He's not here," Barbara shrugged.

"He was in my mirror," Lydia reminded them. Immediately the three of them fled out of the attic and towards Lydia's room. Once they got in, Lydia's mind came up with a quick thought. How this thought didn't come to her earlier she didn't know, but she didn't have time to waste away on that question. At once she picked up one of her heavy school textbooks, aiming to smash the glass-

_BOOM!_

An enormous crash of lightning and thunder made Lydia screech and jump, losing her balance and tripping onto the floor. Adam and Barbara reached to help her, but then a raspy cackle was heard from the mirror.

"Sorry, babes," A familiar voice sneered as The Ghost with The Most appeared in the mirror, his eyes blazing as he stared them down. "But I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I hope you are enjoying this story so far. Remember, comments and polite, constructive criticism are always welcome! :)


	5. Introitus Magnificum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Juice is loose once again.

"Sorry, babes, but I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

Horror. That was all the Maitlands and Lydia could process. Sheer, raw, pure horror.

They all stared wide eyed at him, frozen to the spot, and this prompted another rumbling chuckle from the sleazy ghost.

"Hey, what can I say?" He continued, flipping his hair in added drama. "I am pretty fetchin', aren't !?"

A couple more seconds passed, and then Barbara was the first one to speak up.

"You... you MANIAC!!!" She screamed.

Adam instinctively held Lydia close to him, the father in him taking over.

"Great," Betelgeuse rolled his eyes. "Not even a fuckin' _hello_ or a _thank you_? Shit, you guys really need to learn how to appreciate it when someone saves you from a fucking EXORCISM."

"That doesn't matter!" Barbara yelled. "You _hurt_ them! All we wanted was for them to get out of our house! And _you,_ " Barbara near stomped closer to the mirror, jabbing an angry finger at him. "You decided that scaring them away just wasn't enough for you!"

"I can't believe you losers," Betelgeuse snarled. "Ya wanted them out, I got 'em out. Yer fuckin' welcome," He pulled out and lit a cigarette. "In case you vanilla idiots have already forgotten, I'm a fuckin' _professional._ The shit you tried to pull off didn't help, not like it ever would anyway."

The two ghosts thought about it for a moment. When they changed their heads to look more gruesome back in Juno's office, they hadn't remembered in that moment that the Deetzes wouldn't be able to see them. Of course, they hadn't needed to use them anyway since they scared Lydia the moment they returned from the Netherworld. At least they scared _one_ person, even if she wasn't their target.

Adam quickly shook his head, trying to get that thought out of his mind in fear of giving the poltergeist any bait to grab onto.

"No," He said firmly. "We're not going to believe anything you say. You're nothing but a nasty con man, a _pest._ "

"I'd rather be a pest than a waste of yer damn time like those breathers," Betelgeuse replied, brushing off his suit.

"They're our family now, you son of a-"

The poltergeist busted out a throaty laugh in the middle of Barbara's defense, slapping his knee and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Did, did I hear that right?" He asked in a mocking tone after settling down, furrowing his brows. "Cuz, what it sounded like to me was, the idiots that you were trying so hard to get rid of, those losers that took over your _house_ for _good,_ are now yer compadres."

"You leave them alone," Adam growled, letting go of Lydia and stepping forward beside his wife.

"You think I care for those shit for brains? I couldn't give any less of a damn of what happens to 'em," The poltergeist took a drag. "Nah, I'm just here to check up on my pretty little fiancee."

Wrong choice of words.

At once, a shoe forcefully hit the mirror's glass. Adam and Barbara looked back, noticing a shaking but seething Lydia at the other end of the room.

"I'm not your fiancee," Lydia reminded the ghost angrily, her eyes blazing with both fear and rage. "And I never will be. All I wanted was a normal life, and you took that away from me."

"So did these idiots," Betelgeuse reminded her, his hands gesturing to the two angry ghosts right in front of him.

"Shut up," Adam snapped.

"Oh, wow, I'm wounded," Betelgeuse lazily flailed his arms, his whole demeanor dripping in sarcasm.

"You're not laying a _finger_ on our Lydia!" Barbara warned. "After all that chaos you pulled, you deserve nothing but to be exorcised!"

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" Betelgeuse informed, spreading his arms out wide. "And this time you can't get rid of me. Come on, can't a guy just visit some pals for old time's sake?"

"Pfft, pals??" Barbara scoffed. "Yeah, right. You _kissed_ me, the moment we met!"

"Shit, someone's touchy," The ghost muttered before putting his hands up. "Okay, fine, I get it, you're married an' shit. Jeez. Usually girls would be crawling and hell, practically _drooling_ for me just to touch 'em. And hey, I didn't do that, did I?"

"You still lifted my dress, asshole."

"Come on, can't a guy get _some_ kind of action if he can't even touch it? Damn." Another eye roll, another drag.

"In case _you_ forgot, you pervert, she's my WIFE!" Adam shouted.

"Shit, Adam," Betelgeuse raised his hands again. "Ya don't gotta get all defensive an' shit. Look, I was just curious to see how my _ex_ fiancee," He put a heavy emphasis on the "ex" so another shoe wouldn't be thrown at him. "was doing. She's the most interesting one out of all you assholes."

"Yeah, sure," Lydia spoke up again. "Only interesting enough to be just another sex slave."

Betelgeuse was about to argue, but stopped. While she may have been wrong, her hidden message couldn't have been more clear. All he's shown off was his wide known persona, the sleazy salesman / whore / murderer that everyone knows, hates and fears. Because of this, no one would ever expect him to think any different. It's always been sex, booze or fatal chaos for the ghost. If he was feeling _really_ wild, it would have been all three of those things at once.

He took a mental step back before readdressing the situation.

"Look, I may be a pervert, but I'm not a complete psychopath."

"Are you sure about that?" Barbara drilled. Betelgeuse chose to ignore this.

"While I may be quite, eh, _strong_ for most, I wouldn't touch anyone without askin' 'em."

"Oh, sure, yeah, that's _loads_ better," Adam scoffed. "I bet you wouldn't murder anyone until you asked them ei-"

_BAM!_

A piece of metal like the one Betelgeuse threw at Barbara 5 months ago was now plastered on Adam's fuming face. Satisfied with his work, Betelgeuse returned his attention to Lydia, who has shockingly stepped up next to Barbara, and continued his dialogue.

"Every whore I've been with has willingly spread their legs out for me. Any chick that said no get let go. Hey, they missed their chance to witness the B guy's mastered skills in the sheets, but hey, their choice and their loss."

While it was a start, it barely budged how the Maitlands and Lydia viewed him. He was a no good con man. Just because he didn't rape anyone didn't mean he wasn't bad.

"That changes nothing for us," Barbara crossed her arms.

Some muffled screaming was heard, and the three all looked towards Adam struggling to get the metal off his mouth. Barbara turned back to Betelgeuse, raising her eyebrows. With a dramatic sigh, Betelgeuse waved his hand and the metal was off. Adam took a deep breath, even though he didn't need to breathe, and returned to the mirror by his wife and Lydia, giving himself a quick fix over.

"Don't expect a thank you from me," He jabbed at the poltergeist while still brushing himself off.

"Hey, you just did," Betelgeuse snickered, causing an eye roll from Barbara.

"How did you get back here anyway?" The young woman questioned, slightly less on guard and with less venom in her voice. Looks like she was actually curious.

"That bitch Juno forced me to work for her again for a few months before throwin' me out."

"Just a few months???" Adam was shocked. One would think after all that mayhem Betelgeuse would have been punished for at least a century.

"I know, I was kinda surprised myself," Betelgeuse agreed, crossing his arms casually. "But hey, I wasn't about to miss my chance at freedom, even if it wasn't the exact freedom I desired."

This sentence brought the alertness back into the Maitlands.

"Yeah, well, we're not setting you free any time soon," Barbara reminded him.

"I know. It wasn't my fault you couldn't handle my explosive swagger," The ghoul posed dramatically to emphasize his statement.

This had surprisingly drawn the smallest, almost unnoticeable smirk from Lydia, and The Beetle was lucky to catch the look on her face for a split second before she frowned again. This set off a small spark in him, but he held it down to think over later. He didn't want Lydia knowing he saw it, at least not yet anyway. He wanted the girl to start taking her wall of defense down around him, even it was slowly brick by brick and the wall was miles high.

This didn't draw any laughter from the Maitlands though.

"At least we know better now," Adam said. "You know we can just get Juno again and get you out of here again."

"You can try, but that bitch is more sick of me than a dying sandworm. At least I ain't stoppin' ya this time."

"How courteous," Barbara mocked, bending down in her own dramatic curtsy. Betelgeuse hrrumphed, thinking it cute. In a flash, the Maitlands were gone.

They forgot about one thing though...Lydia.

Lydia's eyes returned to the ghost, her arms crossed and her stare not waving. He looked back at her, taking another drag and letting the smoke wander around in the portal. It stayed like this for a few seconds, just the two of them looking at each other, before the ghost spoke up.

"So, uh, I hate to say this, but I forgot yer name."

"Lydia," The goth sighed. Of course he wouldn't remember her name. He was too busy to care about his freedom to even bother learning his forced future wife's name.

"Lydia," Betelgeuse repeated while nodding, secretly liking how her name rolled off his tongue. "I'm surprised you're still here. Woulda thought you'd be racing down the stairs to tell yer parents."

"Dad, actually," Lydia corrected. "Delia's my step mom. But no time to get into that, now."

"Why not? You're not goin' anywhere, as far as I can tell."

Lydia ignored this.

"Why are you still here?" She prodded.

"Like I said, babes, I just came back to see how you were doin'. Nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah, but you're a murderous psychopath."

"Not like I've heard that before," Betelgeuse stated sarcastically with an eye roll and another drag. "Got any other nicknames for me to get off yer chest?"

"You're a man whorpse as well."

"Ha!" The Beetle threw his head back. "That's a good one babes! I should start using that as my new logo."

Lydia rolled her eyes. Of course he would be amused by that. She reminded herself that she shouldn't be entertaining him and that he was dangerous, so she turned away and made her way to her door.

"Come on, babes, where ya headed now?"

"Away from you," Lydia replied, stopping at her door. "Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Like I said, you're the only interesting person out of everyone here, and hey," He said before she could close the door behind her. "Your life would be pretty boring without me." A mischievous smile appeared on his face at that last sentence as his eyes gazed into hers.

Without another word from either of them, Lydia left her room and shut the door, and the ghost took a deep sigh before vanishing from her mirror.

This was gonna be a long journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, The Juice Man himself is back! Thank you all so much for the support! I hope you're all staying safe during quarantine!


	6. Quare?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many questions are still unanswered, including the most important one: "why?"

The next day was thankfully Saturday, which let Lydia and her ghostly godparents recover from yesterday's event. Although, recovering wasn't exactly the right word for what the Maitlands were doing...

"You. Let. Him. GO?!" Barbara screamed at Juno while pounding her hands on the desk.

"Hey, hands off and shut up!" Juno barked back.

"No! I'm not putting up with this! You let him go after 3 months and...and...let him come back to terrorize us again!"

"You think I don't want him to do that either?" Juno threw her arms out. "I've had to deal with that sack of shit for decades, if not even CENTURIES! So quit your damn complaining! You think what he did to you was so skin crawling, imagine having to be his _boss!_ I had to put up with-"

_RING RING! RING RING!_

Juno snarled, snatching up the phone to bitch at whoever was on the other end, leaving the two ghosts to discuss.

"Adam, we can't just let this happen!"

"I know, honey, just..." Adam tried to calm her down, placing a comforting hand on her arm.

As Juno blabbered and snapped away, Barbara calmed down...somewhat.

"I don't understand this," Barbara started tearing up. "We can't just let that pervert run loose anymore!"

She broke down into Adam as he held her close, rubbing her shoulder.

"Remember what I said before when we first died, okay? We have to take things slow."

"Slow!?" Barbara whipped back up. "Adam, we have a _murderous psychopath AGAIN_ and you want us to take things _**SLOWLY?!?!**_ "

Adam put his hands up and backed off. Barbara was right. There was no time to think up a good plan, there was only time to get rid of that sleazeball as fast as possible. Why couldn't he just leave them alone? And why _them?_ Why did he choose to bother _them?_

Oh yeah. Because they called on him for help. Right.

Adam face palmed; they were really going nowhere fast.

"Okay," Juno slammed down her phone, muttering something about "damn clients" and whatnot. "I've thought about this already. And I'm going through with it. While you two are clearly as not as bad as he is, you have made some _very_ poor decisions since your death. Therefore, you and the Deetzes are going to have to watch over him."

Silence.

"WHAT!!!"

"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP AND LISTEN!?"

"No! Why not just exorcise him?" Adam suggested. "He doesn't deserve to even exist in the afterlife!"

"As much as I want to agree with you two," Juno took a deep inhale. "I know him better than you do. He's vile, he's sick, he's revolting. BUT, he does not. Back down. On promises."

The Maitlands couldn't believe their ears. Who cares how long she's known him? He shouldn't be able to run free and go wherever he wants!

"Besides," The caseworker continued. "You two have gone against my advice in leaving him alone. I've warned you of the dangers he is capable of, and you blatantly chose to ignore them. So, after 3 breather months of deciding, you and the others are looking after him."

The two ghosts couldn't even speak due to the blasphemy they were hearing.

"But why us?" Adam pleaded.

"Did you just not hear a damn word I just said?? You've screwed up as well as he has, ALL of you, and now you have to be held responsible for your stupid actions!" Juno took a deep breath before continuing calmly but sternly. "Now, this is the only way he can be...tamed again, if that's what you wanna call it. You're gonna look after him and make sure he doesn't cause any more trouble. If you don't, he'll continue his pillaging, and I assume you don't want that."

The Maitlands looked at each other before shaking their heads in agreement.

"That's what I thought," Juno muttered, taking a drag and letting the smoke billow out of her throat slit. She leaned down, reaching from one of her drawers and placing a sheet of paper on her desk. "You all are _very_ lucky that he isn't free. Now, sign this contract. That way it'll be officially bound, he'll be stuck in the mirror for you to look after, and I have proof of your agreement if you ever try to deny it in the future."

"We're not going to deny it!" Adam said with frustration.

"Just go," Juno commanded weakly with an irritated sigh. "And don't come back until you have something _actually_ important to say."

Adam and Barbara looked at each other again as if they were trying to communicate telepathically. What should they do? If they don't agree they could get back to their afterlife and spend time with their family. But also... that would mean Betelgeuse would find some way to ruin someone else's life or afterlife again, and the Maitlands hated the thought of the poltergeist plundering away and leaving broken lives behind.

They reached out and signed the paper, and Juno touched the ink with her hand. At once there was a flash of light.

"That means only you can call his name, now," She explained. "Now go. I have other clients to see."

......................

While the Maitlands were off in the Netherworld fighting with Juno, Betelgeuse has decided to come pay another visit to his ex fiancee. His interest for her was undeniable, so he allowed it, making his way back to hang out in her mirror. When he reached there, Lydia was already in her room, sitting at her desk and writing down in her journal. The ghost's eyes were just itching to take a peek at what she was scrawling down.

"Hiya, sweets."

"Ah!" Lydia jumped, the pen flying out of her hand and onto the floor. The moment she looked and saw him she sighed and rubbed her head. "Please just go away. And don't call me sweets, you sicko."

"Look, Lydia, the reason I choose to come here is to see how you're doin' and to try and get to know you better. Hell, maybe we can even be a team and take over the world if we wanted to."

"And why the _hell_ would I want to do that with you?"

The ghost shrugged.

"Because I'm charming?"

"Pfft, yeah right," The goth shook her head as she turned back to her journal.

"Whatcha writin'?"

"Look, my life is stressful, okay? And it's even _more_ stressful with you in it. Sometimes I just want to-"

"Hey!" The poltergeist shouted, interrupting her just in time. "Don't you dare say that shit again. I remember when you told me that the first time we met. Honestly, please tell me you're joking. Why in the fuck would you ever want to end up in this hellhole like me?"

Rolling her eyes and giving in, Lydia slapped her pen down on the desk and turned to face him. She crossed her arms and legs, and her eyes burned with emotion.

"Because no one understands me, okay? My dad doesn't bother listening to me, Delia forces me to be more 'lady like', and both of them as well as their rich friends will never take me seriously. I'm just a burden to them, just another barrier in their way."

That last sentence was spoken more sadly as the goth hung her head down, and the poltergeist shook his head, his dead veins almost boiling back to life in anger.

The two just sat their in silence, the poltergeist rigid with rage and Lydia slumped over, tired of being ignored. Betelgeuse's mind returned again to the conversation they had back when he was in the model, and this was the time to continue it. So far, it was going... not exactly well, but not horribly either.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her how he died, how painful it was, and how he thought ending his own life would solve all of his problems when in reality tsunamis of stress crashed over him in the afterlife.

But he didn't. She wasn't ready to be that comfortable with him, and he wasn't so sure if he himself was either. He wasn't used to dealing with emotions. For him it was just flirt, sex, repeat. No emotion attached to it.

He never talked to anyone about his suicide. Only Juno and Miss Argentina knew he did, but only the former knowing more details of _why_ he did it. Even then, all he chose to do was swallow it down. Swallow down his pain along with the messy cum from doing oral, swallowing his past down along with high and dangerous amounts of alcohol. Why? Because no one had to know. No one deserved to know, because they were all shit for brains and losers.

Everyone except her. This enigma of a young woman, who has clearly underestimated herself and damn near fully brainwashed herself into believing being dead was actually better. Well guess what? It fucking wasn't, and Betelgeuse needed to prove this to her right now.

"Have I not said it a million fuckin' times already?" The ghost threw his hands up. "You're the smartest damn person I've met. You know what pain is like, true pain. All these assholes, they ain't lived through shit like you have. If anyone deserves to die, it's them."

"No," Lydia defended, her head whipping up. "No one deserves to die."

_Fucking dammit._

Betelgeuse squeezed his eyes shut. She was definitely going to be the end of him. The _real_ end, the _exorcism,_ but hopefully in the metaphorical sense. She messed with his mind so much and she didn't even know it.

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed them both throughout their bodies, and they both cried out in pain.

"Gah! What the hell-?"

"Ow!!"

Lydia fell to the floor, almost writhing. Betelgeuse reached out to her, but in a moment the pain was gone as fast as it arrived. The two took heaving breaths, even though the ghost didn't need to, and Lydia stood up again, shaking.

"What happened?" She asked frantically, brushing herself off.

The Beetle raised his hands in defense.

"Hey, don't look at me. For once, I actually didn't do shit."

While he wanted to ask her if she was okay, his reputation and well known persona held him back.

_She doesn't even like you, you asshole. No need to get all soft and shit._

There was a hole burned through The Beetle's striped suit, so he flicked his wrist to fix it.

Nothing.

What the hell...?

He tried again. Nothing.

Just moments later there was a knock at the door. Lydia opened it and the Maitlands entered, prepared.

"Alright, you sicko," Adam started. "We talked with Juno and signed a contract so that you're under our watch now."

"What the...that bitch!" Betelgeuse roared. _She_ did this! How dare she take away his powers!

"But you're staying in that mirror," Barbara added. "You're not going to cause any more chaos out here."

"Actually," The poltergeist grinned slyly after regaining his composure. "Looks like Juno stole the B-man's juice. So hey, if ya wanna let me out.." He spread his arms, waggling his eyebrows.

"Not a chance, pervert!" Barbara spat.

"Okay, suit yourselves," The ghost shrugged. "But ya know... my suit does need to be fixed, and looks like I'm stuck with you idiots. It's gonna happen some time, whether you like it or not."

The four of them stood there, three innocent beings against one wild poltergeist. All parties unwilling to cooperate, though surprisingly Betelgeuse stood as the least immature about it, despite his polar opposite reputation. Barbara and Adam wanted nothing to do with him, Lydia almost the same. But Betelgeuse needed some fun. And if he was going to get anything, he was going to play the part. While he mentally threw Juno into the Lost Souls Room for causing this, he also prepared himself for what could happen next. He wanted to finish what he started, and dammit...

....he would do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, things are getting interesting! Thanks again for your support, everyone! It's much appreciated!


	7. Circumspectus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deetz-Maitland household have to deal with an old, unwanted pest.

Lydia looked herself over, surprised that the searing pain she felt moments ago was no longer there. But why did she share that pain with Betelgeuse? Was it some kind of connection?

"What was that pain?" She asked aloud.

"Beats me," The poltergeist in the mirror shrugged. "All I know is that Juno stripped my powers and that I'm stuck with you losers."

"But why did it affect me?" Lydia questioned.

"You got hurt?" Adam went over to her, checking her over, prompting a dramatic eye roll from Betelgeuse.

"Come oooon!" He whined. "No one's gonna care about me?"

"Well, you're mean to us, you're a murderer, and you're a perverted psychopath," Barbara explained, voice dripping in venom. "So no, we're not going to 'care about you'. You've caused a lot of damage to this house and our lives and afterlives. The last thing we would do is make sure you're okay."

"Idiots," The ghost muttered to himself.

"Heard that."

......................

After that fiasco, a new routine was set up so that the three could rotate in watching the poltergeist in Lydia's room. Adam and/or Barbara would watch while Lydia was with her parents or busy at school, and when she came back she would take over.

Lydia returned on Monday, putting her backpack on the ground and sitting in front of the mirror in her chair as usual. Of course, The Beetle was already there, since this contract made him unable to leave the mirror.

"So," The ghost started while examining his dirty fingernails. "Got any friends?"

"Not really," Lydia shrugged. Over the past few days she hasn't been as alert around the ghost since she knew he couldn't harm her through the portal. "I talk to people once and a while, but they're not willing to exactly be around me."

"Then they're a bunch of jerks, babes," Betelgeuse growled. "There's not one damn reason why people shouldn't want to hang around ya."

While the two weren't exactly friends yet, Betelgeuse was hoping at some point to be her friend. She wasn't mad at him anymore, at least not visibly, so he started to be more casual around her as well. He also let himself acknowledge to her his "non-hostility" towards her openly. Gotta start somewhere.

"I'm just not like everyone else," Lydia shrugged. "I've mentioned it before; I'm strange and unusual."

"Exactly," Betelgeuse pointed at her. "Don't let some immature kids tell ya who you should be. If ya try to fit into the mold yer just gonna become more invisible."

Lydia looked up at him curiously, brows furrowed. For a killer pervert he was shockingly not bad at giving advice.

"How do you know?" She asked genuinely.

"I've been there, babes," He replied, pulling out a cigarette as he's always done. "Took some damn time, that's fer sure, but I learned damn well that tryna be like everyone else," He waved his hand holding the cigarette, letting the smoke surround him before taking a drag. "It ain't gonna get ya anywhere. People claim they want new and exciting shit, but all they do is revert to what they know. You," He addressed her. "are not like them. You're not blinded by what society wants. It may surprise ya, but yer one of the few people I've met with this...mindset or whatever."

"Um...thanks," Lydia said shyly.

"I'm serious. I know ya don't wanna believe me 'cause of my reputation an' all, but hey, it's true."

It was interesting to Lydia, seeing the ghost not putting on his wild performer front. No cackling, no roaming sculptures, no hollering or crazy antics. Just a guy in a striped suit, lounging and chatting with her.

"Lydia!" Charles's voice called.

"Gotta go," Lydia said to the ghost, standing. "and uh..."

He waited, head tilted slightly.

"I guess you're...kind of okay," Lydia said slowly and chopped.

"Hey," The Beetle threw out his arms casually, "Whatever I can get."

Lydia smiled at him, just ever so slightly, before heading downstairs.

"Ugh," The ghost sighed, rubbing his face. She actually smiled at him. It was small, but it was there, nonetheless. Something churned inside him, and he growled. She had a tighter hold on him than she knew. He thought about this for a few more seconds before the Maitlands appeared, turning his mood sour once again.

As Lydia made her way to the living room where Charles was, she thought about what she said. _Ugh, why am I so stupid!? You're giving him extra feet on a few inch long leash!_ But the words were out already, and there was no way to take them back. She had to admit it though, as much as she hated doing so, she was right. He wasn't bad. He didn't put on his persona, so it seemed, and he was much more chill and relaxed. Then again, it wasn't all that surprising since he was a freelance bioexorcist. He only did stuff when he wanted or when he was called upon, so it was reasonable to think he would be either chilling somewhere or causing a riot at a strip club.

Lydia shuddered at the thought, the mental image of Betelgeuse ravaging two or three whores at once. She shook her head quickly, her stomach churning in sync. This shouldn't have bothered her since the first time they met he was lounging right outside a brothel. Yet for some reason it did, and she didn't know why.

She shook her head again, making her way to the living room to see what her father needed. She could think about _him_ later.

"Hey, pumpkin," Charles gave her a hug. "How did the photography project go?"

"I got an A," Lydia smiled.

"Wow, that's great! That's my girl!"

"What was that I heard?" Delia's voice carried. "See, Lydia, your artistic skills are showing through. This could be a way to express yourself without being so depressed all the time."

Lydia boiled at how Delia carelessly tossed the word "depressed" around. The woman didn't know what it was like to be her, to be an outcast and have emotional and mental struggles.

Wait... outcast.

_"If ya try to fit in the mold yer just gonna become more invisible."_

The ghost's words echoed in her mind, almost reassuring her. Delia wanted Lydia to be like other girls, more feminine and bright and sparkling with positivity. She didn't accept Lydia for who she already was. This had further made Lydia closed off from the woman since they met, when Delia made her disapproval of Lydia's behavior and style quite clear. Not only had her mother Emily died, Lydia's father chose the wrong woman to replace her, not like anyone actually could. Delia hadn't accepted her, and that was that. Nothing has changed ever since.

But the Maitlands did.

Betelgeuse did.

Lydia squeezed her eyes shut. How in the world could she relate to a dead freak more than to her annoying step mother???

"Hun, are you okay?" Charles asked.

"Yeah," Lydia lied. "What's for dinner?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got to update after a long day! Hope you guys are doing well. Sorry it's a short chapter, I had a long day.


	8. Auxilium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chains are finally off our ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Blood.

As was their routine, the Maitlands and Lydia did their usual rotations on watching the poltergeist throughout the week. Each day, although they wouldn't admit it, not even to themselves, the three of them were slowly but surely being more comfortable around him. This still wasn't enough for Betelgeuse to bribe them into letting him out, and this made his wild hair still stand on end. He's already done his business there with trying to get the Deetzes and those other idiots out. This had obviously backfired, since the Maitlands have learned to accept the new fate of the house those 5 breather months ago. Now that there was nothing for him to do, _especially_ with his powers unfairly taken away by the caseworker bitch, what could he do? His mind spun. He wasn't allowed anywhere else in the Netherworld anymore, and he wasn't allowed in the Outerworld. He was stuck in this goddamn mirror. At least it was Lydia's mirror, and this thought let the ghost keep whatever sanity he had left, not that he had much in the first place.

By Friday, it was a week since he had returned. The unruly ghost sat there lazily in the mirror, waiting for Lydia to come home. At least he had some time to himself and away from those two vanilla beginner "haunters". They couldn't even hurt a fly.

Wait...time. To himself.

The ghost grinned to himself proudly. The Maitlands have subconsciously left him alone more and more often throughout the week, and he sure as hell noticed it. Not like he would bring it up though, because then they would watch him obsessively like hawks if they realized how much they've been....trusting him, if that was the right term.

At least, the ghost thought, it was a weak spot. They were growing softer, around _him._ They hated his guts, yet they weren't guarding him constantly anymore like they have been before. All Betelgeuse had to do was find the right timing, and he would be out of this boredom hole in no time.

He could almost smell it, the sweet scent of freedom, and for a moment he was drunk with sly hope.

But wait... he still didn't have his powers, and he wouldn't know if he would get them back or not if he was set free. His hopes and dreams were crushed as he gnashed his teeth. Damn Juno. Damn curse. Damn EVERYTHING!!!

His bitter sulking was interrupted as Lydia entered, setting her backpack down and sitting at her desk. But something seemed... off. While Lydia was clearly not the happiest person on the planet, she wasn't the darkest cloud in the sky either. Yet today, Betelgeuse automatically sensed the negative energy practically crackling and popping around her. She avoided looking at him or talking to him at that moment, her mind clearly stressed on more important things as she clenched her fists.

At once, the negative energy that was spilling from the girl seeped into Betelgeuse's veins, and a volcano of anger boiled up inside him, ready to erupt at any second.

Somebody hurt Lydia.

Yes, this was clear. Maybe not to anyone else, but it was to him, and she didn't even say a word to him yet.

He took a deep breath before asking as sincerely as possible in a near growl:

"What happened?"

It took a few seconds before Lydia even responded at all. But then she closed her eyes for a moment before facing him.

"They won't stop...they just won't stop..."

Her reply came out choked, readying the tears to fall from the goth's tired eyes.

Betelgeuse didn't understand, but then his eyes fell on...her bleeding leg.

_What. The. Fuck._

Lydia's leg was gashed at the knee, blood running down in little streams all the way down to her white socks, staining them. Not only that, but her hands were scraped up as well on her palms.

If Betelgeuse's anger didn't show before, it sure as hell showed now.

"Who. Did. This?" He growled. Yep. He was gonna do it. He would torture and kill whoever hurt Lydia, and no one would stop him.

Lydia just shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut as tears began to fall. No, she would not break down in front of him. Not in front of the psychopath who tried to marry her. Not in front of...

_the only one who's truly understood her._

"Lydia..." He started slowly, forcing himself to be as "calm" as possible. "You need to tell me. I can help you."

"No!" Lydia shouted, shaking. "I'm not letting you out!"

"Tell me. Who. Hurt. You?"

"It's none of your business, I can handle it myself!"

Lydia limped towards her door, wincing all the while, before-

_CRASH!_

"OOOOOWWW!!!" She cried out in pain, rolling onto her back. She had fallen right on her wound, and a blood stain was added to her floor. She clutched at her leg below the wound, letting blood start to cover her fingers. Pain was all that she knew in the moment, her hands and knee making sure of it.

"That's it!" Betelgeuse had enough. He pounded on the mirror before directing to her, "Lydia, let me out. You can't even _walk._ "

"I'll get the Maitlands to do it," She replied, wincing again. Her dad was out somewhere, Delia was drowned in her artwork, and the Maitlands-

Wait...where were they?

"Adam, Barbara!" She called.

No answer.

Shit.

Betelgeuse's mind was enraged. Those shit for brains were probably in the Netherworld, Delia didn't give a damn about her step-daughter, and chicken-liver Chucky was out there doing whatever the fuck. Did any of these idiots fucking care about Lydia at all?! Sure the Maitlands did, but not enough to help her RIGHT NOW WHEN SHE NEEDED IT!!!

Lydia's body shook, the pain refusing to leave just as strongly as she refused to let Betelgeuse out. She couldn't let him out, he was a sleazy, no-good psychotic murderer!

"Babes," He said in a warning tone. "At least let me help you with the scratch. Then we can discuss the rest."

She tried to fight his words. Nope, nope, nope. She wouldn't let him out. He was just lying to her. Not only did her knee and hands hurt, her brain was now in pain as well. She wouldn't let him out... she was smarter than that... she... she...

"OW!!!" Another searing flash of pain ripped through her knee.

Yep. Fuck it.

"Betelgeuse," She winced, his name leaving her mouth like sandpaper. "Betelgeuse..."

_Lydia what are you DOING!? Are you INSANE?!!_

Lydia shook her head. She was going to hate this decision she was about to make, but she had no choice.

She took a deep inhale and...

"BETELGEUSE!"

_BOOM!_

Thunder and lightning cracked loudly around the house. Lydia's eyes were squeezed shut.

_You fucked up, this time, Lydia. You've REALLY outdone yourself..._

She began to open her eyes, and a mist clouded lightly in her room. Her mirror was empty. The atmosphere was dim and heavily intimidating. And...

Her eyes landed on the shadow, widening. She dared her gaze to follow it, and it led to the most impressive sight she's seen in months.

His black boots almost graced her floor. Her gaze continued up his body, taking in his raw form.

Finally, their eyes locked. Two eyes gazing up in shock and fear, the other two gazing back ablaze in rage. One set dark brown, the other set a bright, fiery blue.

In one swift movement, the ghost swooped down and picked up Lydia with a grunt, his loud footsteps making their way to the bathroom downstairs.

Lydia gasped, the ghost's simultaneously strong yet gentle hold of her gripping her mind. She curled inward to herself, doing her best to face away from him. Betelgeuse didn't care at the moment; he needed to fix up her wounds, then he would make whoever hurt her pay for the rest of eternity.

As soon as they reached the bathroom he set her down and began rummaging in the cupboards for any gauze, medicine and band-aids.

Lydia stood there, stunned.

She did it. She actually did it.

She felt herself almost fall over again and her arm snapped out to grab the nearest thing it could find: Betelgeuse's arm.

The moment her fingers met the fabric of his suit, embarrassment loudly swept over her. And yet, she didn't pull away. She needed support to stand up anyway. And of all things in the bathroom, her brain had chosen to lean on _him_ for support. Great. Fucking great.

The moment Lydia grabbed onto his arm, a spark rapidly spread throughout the ghost. It's been 5 months since she last touched him, and in a similar manner too. Arm in arm, headed down the non-existent aisle for their wedding...

He shook his head. No. He can't think of that now.

 _Fix her wound,_ He reminded himself. _Fix Lydia. Then remove the asshole who hurt her._

In his frantic search for any first aid supplies, his eyes suddenly locked again with hers.

_Dammit._

In that moment, neither of them moved. In that moment, still as stones, all they could do was look at each other.

An energy crackled between them. Even with no sound in the room besides Lydia's shaky breaths, this energy showed its presence loudly in the room.

Different thoughts entered in each of their minds then.

_I must protect Lydia. Even if I have to be dragged to the Lost Souls Room, I must protect her._

_I did it. I set him free. I set Betelgeuse free._


	9. Gratias Tibi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new understanding starts to glow even brighter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and support! The feedback is much appreciated! :)

They stared at each other for what felt like centuries, not daring to move. Only their breathing could be heard, even though it wasn't nearly as loud as the energy dancing around and between them.

Lydia's throat was dry, and her pain was temporarily gone, both from her hands and knee. She couldn't believe that the first thing he would do once he was set free was _look after her and her well being._ This had to be a dream, some crazy, fucked up dream that would never happen in all of time.

But no. Here she was. Breathing. Alive. Awake. And with _him._

The only emotion that coursed through her veins was absolute shock. It exploded so hard throughout her body that it forced all the rest of her emotions numb, including the pain.

Betelgeuse's body was frozen stiff. He couldn't believe what he was doing. He, The Ghost With The Most, was taking care of his wounded ex finacee in her bathroom. And even more shocking, he was doing it without his _juice._

"Shit!" He cried out. This caused Lydia to jump, and the pain was back, knocking her back again.

"Ah!" She gasped, her fingers latching onto the door frame. She didn't have to do it long though, for the ghost hoisted her up standing again.

"Can ya fuckin' stay still?" The ghost spat before kneeling down and examining her injury.

"Can you not boss me around?" Lydia lashed back.

Uh oh.

The ghost stopped at once, before slowly raising his head. His bright blue eyes were on fire with anger as they dug their way into Lydia's own fearful ones.

"In case you forgot," He growled. "I'm the one who's patchin' ya up since it's pretty damn obvious ya can't do it on yer own. I'm in charge here. So if ya want yer leg an' hands back to normal yer gonna listen to me. Got it?"

Lydia frowned at him through her fear. She couldn't let him know she was afraid. At least afraid of his bad side.

"I don't have to do anything you say," She said back. "I'm- ow!"

She winced again, and the ghost ground his teeth. Stubborn one, but she was still interesting. Rolling his eyes, his mind went back to his previous thought before Lydia went flailing about.

Right, his juice.

At once he waved his hand over her wound. Nothing.

"Dammit!"

He jerked himself back onto his feet, once again rummaging for medical supplies. Damn Juno. He would have a word with that bitch the moment he was allowed to go back in the Netherworld.

He found some gauze and medicine, tossing them carelessly on the sink before looking again for bandaids.

As he did so, Lydia splashed some cold water on her knee wound, wincing as she scrubbed the drying blood on her lower leg. She took off her shoe and blood stained sock, tossing them on the floor.

"Why?" She suddenly asked. He looked at her, his eyes expressing his confusion.

"Why..." She was about to ask why he was helping her. Why he seemed to _care._ Why he was doing this instead of bolting out the door to some bar or brothel. Instead, nervousness took over and in place she asked, "...um...why aren't your uh, powers or whatever working? I thought they would since I set you free."

The Beetle sighed. "Juno. That's all there is to it." He didn't feel like elaborating because there was no need to. He returned his focus on Lydia's leg, grabbing the gauze. He bent down and was about to reach for her leg, but he reminded himself it was a bad idea. She wouldn't touch him with a million foot pole, and yet not five minutes ago he was carrying her down the stairs.

He looked back up into her eyes, asking with a raise of his eyebrows.

"No way," Lydia cringed, protectively grabbing her leg. "I'll hold it. You get the blood awa- you know what," She swiped the gauze from his hand, barely brushing his fingers in the process. "I'll get it this time. I'm not letting you touch me again."

Her last sentence was spoken with what sounded almost like sadness, and The Beetle's ears picked up on this right away. Lydia had noticed it too, but she didn't comment or act any further on it as she wiped away her own blood.

Betelgeuse was used to women not wanting to touch him or be touched by him even though it annoyed him, but Lydia rejecting his help particularly caused a small snap in his system. If he was going to hang around this place since he was stuck with them now, he wanted to be able to touch someone when needed, especially since his powers were gone. Of course he didn't give a damn about the others, but he wanted to be closer to Lydia. He always has ever since their first conversation.

As Lydia finished up with cleaning up the blood and putting on the medicine, she gestured to the cupboards again.

"Can you get a band aid for me?"

"Pfft," The ghost scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And here I thought you didn't need my help."

"I _don't,_ " Lydia hissed, glaring at him.

"Well guess what, babes," Betelgeuse mocked back. "There ain't shit here."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Fuck you."

"Hey, only if ya wanna," The Beetle replied, waggling his eyebrows and throwing his arms open.

_THWACK!_

"Hey, shit, I'm jokin', okay? Damn..." The Beetle rubbed his arm where Lydia hit him.

"Yeah, like I would believe that," Lydia said. "And stop calling me 'babes'."

"Whatever," Betelgeuse mumbled, stretching.

As he stretched, Lydia's eyes fell on the moss and mold patches on his skin. On his forearms, his neck and face, and it dominated his hairline the most. His raccoon marked and sunken in eyes were closed, and his hair was wild and untamed as usual. She noticed it was blonde, too. Not automatically noticeable, but it was blonde nonetheless. Her eyes trailed down his body, noticing his form in more detail. Broad shoulders, beer belly, and while he clearly wasn't tall, he wasn't exactly short either. Her eyes roamed his moss covered skin again, and this prompted her curiosity as to how he died. From what it looked like he probably drowned.

"Ya checkin' me out, babes?"

Lydia gasped and jumped, finding a smirking poltergeist looking back at her almost... flirtatiously.

_Shit, what am I doing!?_

"Ew, no!" Lydia shook her head. "Why the hell would I ever do that!? You're disgusting!"

"So?" The ghost shrugged. "Everyone wants a piece of me at some point."

"I will _never_ want you," Lydia seethed. "All you do is either maim or fuck. You only care about yourself and-mmMFF!!"

The Beetle's hand was immediately over her mouth, his other planted firmly on the wall that he backed Lydia against. At once his face was only an inch away from hers, his eyes ablaze as they bore into hers again.

"If I cared only about myself," He softly snarled. "You'd still be upstairs lying on the floor in pain."

Lydia was frozen in fear, her eyes wide as her worst enemy was just centimeters away from her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for something horrible to happen.

But nothing did.

She opened her eyes slowly, only to find his hand wasn't on her mouth and he was gone. Soon enough though, his footsteps were heard ascending the stairs back to her room. Lydia sighed, wracking her brain for answers on what to do.

She hated to admit it, but he was right. He didn't have to help her with her wounds. He could have easily left and done who knows what, yet he stayed. He stayed to heal her.

But wait. It could be one of his tricks. He could be faking it. Once he would get his powers back somehow, if he ever did, he would drop the act and reek havoc once again. She didn't deserve that. Not her, not her family, not anyone.

Her brain continued to fight with itself. She didn't know what to do or if she should trust him.

Finally, Lydia took a deep breath and made a decision. He was playing nice now, so she would too. Besides, stooping low and being rude to him would only show how bad _she_ was being, and that she was not willing to help him be less of a maniac. It would only fuel his desire for danger and make her vulnerable to tag alongside him in creating that danger. No, she would not let him have that.

She sighed, making her way back upstairs as well. As she joined him back in her bedroom, he was leaning against the wall by her mirror, arms and legs both crossed. She still kept her distance from him, though. She may play nice, but she wouldn't start being all friendsy. Besides, why in the world would they ever be friends?

"So," The ghost started. "Are you gonna tell me who hurt you now?"

Lydia sighed. She put her head in her hands but remembered the pain, wincing while lashing her hands away.

Betelgeuse rolled his eyes. _This damn breather._

He slowly walked over to her, casually sweeping his feet in the air as he did so. Lydia backed up in alarm, her body tensing up and ready to bolt.

"Jeez, I'm not gonna hurt you," The ghost muttered. He then held out one of his hands. "Gimme yer hands."

"Uh, no," Lydia refused without hesitation.

"Ya wanna be healed or not?"

Another sigh from Lydia before she looked down at his moldy hand. This was the last thing she wanted to do.

"I dunno if this is gonna work, but I'm tryin' this one last time," The ghost informed her.

Lydia hesitantly reached out, her palm up. Her eyes squeezed shut again, expecting the ghost to yank her forward to him and forcefully kiss her with that disgusting mouth. Instead, he gently held the back of her hand underneath, his eyes looking at her scraped palms as he concentrated. Lydia watched him as just a few seconds later he swept his other hand in the air over her palm.

The goth's mouth fell open, looking at her own hand. The scrapes were gone as well as the pain.

Betelgeuse looked up at her again, smirking.

"Hey, whaddya know?"

Lydia let out a surprised huff. His powers were back.

This time, The Beetle was shocked as Lydia slowly offered up her other hand, letting down the other one. He did the same as before, holding it with one of his own while waving his other hand over.

_Wow, her hands are soft..._

This time, neither one of them pulled back. They stared down at their hands, his bigger, mossy one almost cradling her smaller soft one. It was almost... captivating.

Realizing what she was doing, Lydia jerked her hand away, wiping it off on her top.

"Um, thanks..." She muttered, pointedly looking away from him.

"Yeah," He replied softly, juicing up a cigarette as he continued to look at her. "Sure thing."

Almost immediately, a realization hit the ghost.

Juno didn't lift the ban on his powers; someone else did.

And that someone was standing right in front of him.


	10. Risus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Maitlands return to find a not so welcome guest back in their house...

Barbara sighed as she and Adam slowly walked down the Netherworld hall, returning to their attic door. Of course, nothing but the poltergeist has been on their minds since his return, and luckily he was still trapped in the mirror. Why he couldn't return to the Netherworld they weren't sure why, but that was part of the deal that Juno made. At least she made it bearable for them since he wasn't allowed out... well, at least not unless they called him out, and _only_ them. The Maitlands and Lydia would look after him and try to not tear each other's throats out, and he wouldn't be allowed to cause a riot anywhere. Simple. Very effective, but simple. That's the way the Maitlands liked it.

"Adam," The young ghost woman began. "How long is this gonna last?"

"I don't know, honey," Adam said honestly. "As long as he can't go anywhere we can do this."

"But Lydia..." Barbara continued, her voice wavering with worry. "She's just a young girl. He could manipulate her into letting him out."

"She's smart, Barbara," Adam reasoned. "She was strong before, there's no reason to not believe in her now."

This took a moment for Barbara to think about, but in the end, she gave in and nodded in agreement.

"You're right," She caved. "Okay, let's go in. I'm tired."

Adam smiled and wrapped an arm around her, giving her a quick but loving kiss into her hair before opening the door. They stepped into the attic, Adam striding over to his model to fix and replant any pieces that fell over. Barbara opened the Handbook, leaning on the window near the door to the stairs and flipping through casually.

Suddenly the door flew open, almost hitting Barbara in the face. She jumped, the Handbook flying out of her hands and thumping loudly onto the floor. There stood a sopping wet and angry Delia, drenched in a red sauce and pasta.

Adam and Barbara stood there in shock, jaws agape.

"Three. Hundred. Dollars," Delia seethed each word out through her teeth, her eyes ablaze in rage. "Three hundred dollars for this dress, and now it has SPAGHETTI ALL OVER IT!!!" She screeched.

The Maitlands' minds were whirring at warp speed. What the hell was going on???

"Do you _SERIOUSLY_ think it's a good time to haunt this house?" Delia snapped, heaving angrily. "Did you forget what's happening tonight?"

Yep. They did.

"Since I am unable to make a living off of a ghost amusement park, I'm selling my sculptures," Delia continued on before the two ghosts could answer her. "And I have three of the most professional artists from around the country coming here tonight to see them. Yes. Tonight. So don't even _think_ about interfering this time with your... calypso music and haunted seafood!" Delia's arms flailed about like crazy, flinging spaghetti sauce onto the wooden walls. "I swear, I should have stayed in New York when I had the chance!" She cried, slamming the door closed.

Not one word came out of the Maitlands, yet everything was hurled at them by the crazy, red-headed Delia. All they could do was stand there in shock as her angry footsteps descended.

"What..." Barbara came to first, blinking as if hoping it were just a bad dream. "What's going on?"

"Whatever it is, she thinks we've done it," Adam replied, pointing out the obvious.

Barbara began to pace worriedly, wringing her hands. "Do you think-"

She stopped abruptly.

Oh.

Oh no.

With a gasp, Barbara flew down the stairs, a confused Adam in tow. 

_No, no, no!_ She thought. _He can't be out!_

"Barbara, what's going on?" Adam asked as he raced after her. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long for his answer. Once again they were stopped in their tracks, shock once again slamming into them like a truck.

There he was, lounging on the couch in the living room, cigarette dangling from his rotten lips, a proudly smug expression loudly accenting his features. Next to him sat a near frozen Lydia, whose head snapped up to the two ghosts.

"Hiya, losers," The Beetle greeted, his eyes burning with mischief. "You two got some real explainin' ta do..."

.............................

( One hour earlier )

Lydia and Betelgeuse stood there in her room, not sure what to do. He had just healed her hands with his juice, which had somehow decided to work again for no reason. Or...was there a reason?

The thought had hit The Beetle first. She had somehow brought his juice back... but _how?_ This was shit that the poltergeist was _not_ experienced with at all. This has never happened before in all his 600+ years of his afterlife. This was because he didn't discover his juice until he broke free of being Juno's assistant the first time, and he's never lost his juice since then. He was too slippery and sneaky to be caught by anyone.

"What the hell..." He muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead.

"What?" Lydia asked hesitantly.

"That's never happened before," He said. "Well, uh, neither of those things have. Juno ain't had the smarts enough ta take away my juice. If she had before, I woulda damn well figured she would be the only one to give it back."

"Then... how did you get it back?"

_Shit._

He didn't want to lie to her. He wanted to tell her that she did it. He had to do it in order to at least be trusted by her, even if they could never become friends.

But at the same time, something nagged inside of him, telling him not to open his big mouth like he usually did. No, he had to be smart and slow. _Real_ slow. Laying what he knew onto Lydia so early on would wreck her brain and ruin what could be a possible connection between them. No, scratch that. There _is_ a connection between them, but just the base of it. It just had to be built up. So, with a hesitant decision, he used the best alternative answer that he could.

"I'm not exactly sure."

Hey, it wasn't a complete lie, right? It was technically true, at least partially, since he didn't exactly know how Lydia did it.

"Well, I'm glad I don't have to know," Lydia said, flopping down onto her bed and sitting on the edge, examining her newly healed hands. "I'm not ready to be a ghost just yet to be burdened with all of those powers."

"Pfft," Betelgeuse scoffed. "My juice ain't no burden, babes." To prove it, he waved his hand and Lydia's desk turned from a dark brown to a shiny black, the legs adorned with his trademark black and white stripes.

Lydia's jaw went slack in shock, and this made the ghost chuckle. She was quite an adorable little thing.

The goth went over to her desk, looking it over. "You just had to use your stripes, didn't you?" She said with a roll of her eyes.

"Hey, stripes are my thing," The Beetle replied simply with a shrug and a drag.

"Well, perverted man whorpses aren't mine," Lydia replied, crossing her arms.

Betelgeuse wasn't sure if she was joking or not (most likely not), but either way he let out another chuckle. Whether on purpose or absentmindedly, she remembered that nickname made him grin. Lydia was starting to trust him, even if it was the slightest bit. He liked it, and a funny feeling crept up inside him. He pushed it down, doing his best to not let it show.

"Yet here you are, letting one walk around in yer house, in yer _room_ ta be exact."

"I did it so you could...ugh... _help_ me." Lydia forced that word with disgust out of her mouth. She hated admitting it. She did need his help, whether she liked it or not.

"Shit, you say that like it's a bad thing," The ghost muttered.

"Well, you're not exactly someone I would voluntarily ask," Lydia said pointedly. "I only asked because you were..." Her brain fought itself inside her head. She was about to say that he was the only source of help around, but if she did it would probably fuel his already bloated ego, even if it was true. "...whatever," She said finally. "Besides, you forced me into marriage three months ago."

"Nah ah ah, babes," Betelgeuse said, waggling his finger. "You did that willingly to help those two idiots."

"I was hoping you were joking with the marriage thing."

"Clearly I wasn't," The ghost stated simply. "I already told ya, I'm a ghost of my word. I just do it all in my own style." He posed dramatically to add effect, and this drew out a small laugh from the teen. Ah, he enjoyed how her laugh coated his ears and mind. Maybe something else too...

 _Shut up, you asshole!_ He scolded himself. _She just laughed, you idiot. It ain't some life changin' shit or whatever._

Lydia's mind whirred as a short but noticeable laugh drew out of her, watching the ghost be his weird and disgusting but somehow _funny_ self. She couldn't believe herself; she was actually starting to get along with a hazardous, creepy ghost. How could she, after all the hell he's thrown at her and her family? The problem was just one thing... her big heart. As sad as she had been ever since Emily died, this had further opened up her sympathetic and empathetic routes, even though she expressed them differently than other people did. She forgave others easily... probably _too_ easily. These growths of sympathy and empathy had sadly replaced and left out room for any happiness to enter again, but it wasn't a bad alternative altogether. It would allow her to mature and understand that she wouldn't want anyone to experience the pain she was going through. She would forgive when she shouldn't have, not wanting to see pain get a hold of anyone but herself.

Now here she was, laughing at a ghost who had previously forced her into near marriage and caused her pain. Those routes had taken over once again, making her trust him little by little, giving him a second chance as much as she didn't want to. She laughed at his silly pose, and this had cracked an unnoticeable crack in the stone that protectively surrounded her heart. She had trusted him to heal her hands, and this had removed a few bricks from the supposedly indestructable wall she had put up all those years ago.

Lydia shook her head, forcing herself back to the present.

"So..." She started slowly, a thought coming into her head. "Why did you put me in that big wedding dress?"

"'Cause, we were gonna get married?" Betelgeuse replied. The fuck was this girl aiming for?

"No, I meant..." Lydia took a breath before continuing. "You could have put me in a skimpy, sleazy dress, since you clearly like that kind of thing. Why didn't you?" She cocked her head slightly, curious.

The ghost sighed. There were two answers to this question, and luckily one of them he could answer easily. So he did.

"You ain't an adult yet, and I wasn't about to add pedophile to my list of attributes. Yuck. You were what, fifteen, sixteen?"

"Sixteen, and I still am. My birthday's in two weeks, though."

The Beetle nodded, adding that to his mental checklist. He was going to do something for her on her birthday, whether she liked it or not... and hopefully she would.

The other answer to her question still jumped around in his mind: _I did it because you're beautiful, and you deserved the best dress to show it off._

Haha, nope. He was not going to tell her that, not today. If he did, she would probably hit him with another shoe and send him back in the mirror for good, and that's something he didn't want.

The Beetle lounged against one of the walls as Lydia stood, going over to her desk. She opened a drawer, pulling out some photos before taking them to the ghost.

"I don't even know why I'm showing you these, but...here."

The ghost glanced up at her before taking them. Wow, she had impressive skills.

"Shit, this better be your major in college," He said as he looked at each of them in approval. "Ya know what? Screw college. With the skills you got, ya don't need it."

He handed them back to her, watching a blush creep up onto her face.

"Uh, thanks..." Lydia said shakily, turning away to hide her face even though it was too late. "But I'm planning on going to college anyway. I need to prove to people that I can do photography with a major declaration and degree."

The Beetle shook his head. He was so pissed that in order to get a stable job one had to have a flimsy sheet of paper to prove it instead of raw talent.

"That's fuckin' stupid," He growled. "You should be able to walk up to anyone who's hirin', show 'em yer photos, and you should be rollin' in dough in no time with your skills. Fuckin' degrees and majors... we didn't have that shit when I was alive and we don't need it now."

Lydia was in shock. He was actually complimenting her! If that wasn't bad enough, he was making her blush, too! Dammit! Why!? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Why was he being nice to her? What the hell was going on? Her mind was working overtime, and she needed a break.

A helpless groan escaped her as she clutched her head, bending forward.

Betelgeuse stopped his rambling, his eyes on her. "Hey, you good?"

"I just...I just need some time to breathe."

"Hey, I can help with that," Betelgeuse said proudly, puffing out his chest. "Anytime you need some weight off yer shoulders, the B-guy is here!"

Lydia rolled her eyes, shaking her head. What a weirdo. A funny weirdo.

A sudden smirk graced the ghost's face.

 _Oh no,_ Lydia thought. _This won't be good._

"I swear, whatever you're thinking, I'm going to end it and send you back!"

"Babes, relax, I'm not gonna hurt anyone this time. Yeesh. You wanted a distraction, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Great. It's show time!" He announced, spreading out his arms again as thunder and lightning made their usual entrance.

Lydia was nearly stiff in fear. Oh no, what had she done??? So stupid, letting him out again! Of course she shouldn't have trusted him. Now he was going to cause mania all over again!

"Come on, it's just a small prank. Like I said, I'm a ghost of my word. Jeez." The ghost rolled his eyes as he floated downstairs, Lydia following. She wanted to stop him, but thought again to what he said... he was a ghost of his word. Her mind was so jumbled and frantic as she and Betelgeuse snuck over to the couch in the living room. There Delia was in the kitchen, cooking spaghetti and humming to herself. Betelgeuse snickered to himself. That bitch was gonna get it for not paying enough attention to Lydia.

Delia placed the cooked spaghetti onto six plates before adding the marinara sauce. Betelgeuse clenched his teeth in anticipation as she loaded the last plate, before waving his hand with pride.

SPLAT!!!

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!"

Delia screamed as all of the plates lifted themselves off the counter and dumped the hot spaghetti and sauce right onto her, the contents spilling everywhere onto her, the counter and the floor. Some even got into the wine that was prepared.

Lydia gasped as Delia continued screaming, trying to get the noodles and sauce out of her hair and clothes with paper towels. Betelgeuse was tempted to burst into a fit of laughter, but remembered that even though he could make himself invisible to anyone when wanted, they could still hear him, and he wasn't ready to show himself to the Deetz adults just yet.

"What the HELL!?" Lydia hissed at him. "You could have seriously hurt her!"

"Not my problem," Betelgeuse replied. "She shouldn't have cooked hot shit for dinner, then."

The two watched as Delia made her way angrily upstairs to the attic, about to have a word with the Maitlands.

 _Those two ghosts think they're so funny, huh?_ Delia thought to herself, grumbling as she squelched up the stairs. _Not only is my dress ruined, I won't have time to get redressed for the artists tonight! Dammit, why did I ever let Charles drag me here to this hellhole of a town?!_

Lydia suddenly remembered about Delia's guests and face palmed.

"Oh, no!!"

"What now?" Betelgeuse grumbled.

"You asshole, she has guests tonight!!!"

"Well how the fuck was I supposed to know!?"

Lydia thrusted her gesture at the wine and fallen six plates of spaghetti, with the table that was set up quite fancily nearby.

 _Oh. That's how._ The ghost thought to himself. Well, she still deserved it for being a shitty stepmother.

A minute later in the midst of Lydia's and Betelgeuse's quiet but fiery argument, Delia marched back down. What surprised the two arguing beings on the couch and stopped them were the Maitlands that came down soon after in a flash.

Once again, tension crackled in the air as silence took over once again.

 _Ah shit,_ The Beetle thought to himself. _Got caught. Hey, at least I can be seen in my full splendor once again and show these vanilla shits who the real boss is here._

"Hiya, losers," He seethed. "You two got some real explainin' ta do..."


	11. Interrogo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions arise and the balance of trust begins to wobble again.

Somehow, some way, the three ghosts and Lydia made their way back to the attic without getting into a whirlwind of fists and supernatural powers and tearing each other's throats out. Nope, they all made it back to the attic in one piece.

"What the hell are you talking about!?" Adam demanded to the poltergeist through clenched teeth once they slammed the door shut.

"Are you fuckin' shitting me?" Betelgeuse sneered back. "If I hadn't healed her then you two shit for brains would have regretted heading back to the Netherworld for whatever the hell you were doing."

"Healed her?" Barbara blinked in confusion. "Lydia, what is he talking about?"

Lydia didn't have the strength to respond, and her head was hung, tears almost leaving her eyes. She could barely stand up. From all the emotions that have attacked and latched onto her today, she's had enough. The Beetle nodded in frustration at this, gesturing angrily towards her while seething at the Maitlands.

"Ya see?" He snapped. "You two fuckers weren't there when she needed ya. In case ya didn't know, Lydia got harassed today."

Barbara gasped. "Harassed?!"

"Yyyyup!" The Beetle replied, popping the "p". "You claim to care for her, yet you dun even pay attention ta her when she fuckin' needs it. Her hands and leg were gashed up pretty damn good. Did you two even _know_ about this before today?"

"N-no," Adam stuttered, shaking his head quickly. "We never did..."

"I never told them," Lydia spoke up in a small voice. "They can't leave the house anyway to protect me, so what's the point?"

An awful silence wafted through the air as the four of them stood there. Betelgeuse was furious. While he was upset that Lydia wouldn't speak up about being harassed, he was _way_ more focused on the four other losers occupying the house. None of them could help her. Well, the Maitlands couldn't physically leave the house, so that was out of the question, yet they somehow never picked up any warning signs from Lydia. None at all. The two breathers who would gladly trade Lydia to be back in New York were even worse. They actually didn't give a damn about her. She was just another burden to them. Any time she would go to them for help, they would turn her away to focus on anything else. They didn't take her seriously. She wasn't a daughter to them, she was just an obstacle in their way. This pissed Betelgeuse off more than anything, and luckily he got his revenge against Delia before the Maitlands came flying down.

"Lydia," Barbara's voice was full of disappointment. "We're so sorry we never noticed. But why didn't you tell us? We could have given you some advice."

"Pfft," The Beetle scoffed, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he kicked up some dust. "Advice. What a fuckin' joke. Advice ain't gonna help her when she's being thrown to the ground an' beaten to a pulp. She needs to be taught how to defend herself. Lydia," He turned to her. "I ain't gonna protect ya all the time, not like ya want me around anyway. So ya need ta learn some shit for when I ain't around."

"I know," Lydia replied, pointedly not looking at him and crossing her arms sadly. She would have this discussion later with him, so she refocused on the Maitlands. "Where were you two, anyway?"

"We went back to try to find any information on how to keep perverted ghosts away from hurting anyone else," Adam seethed, his eyes shooting daggers at the unkempt pest. "He was going to manipulate you to let him out, Lydia, and he succeeded."

"I did it because you two assholes weren't there to _help her._ " The Beetle gnashed. "She was on the goddamn floor and she couldn't fucking get up! Those ditsy breathers could fuckin' care less, and you two were gone! And hey, besides tossin' spaghetti on that bitch's head, did I fuckin' do anything yet??? That's right, I didn't fuckin' think so!"

Something in Barbara snapped, and in a flurry she cried out, "BetelgeuseBetelgeuseBetelgeuse!"

That was the last sound heard for the next solid minute. You could hear a pin drop if one did at that moment.

Both of the Maitlands' eyes widened, staring in shock as the poltergeist continued to stand there. The Beetle himself blinked, his eyes darting around in pure confusion.

_The fuck?! I'm still here?!_

Lydia too stood frozen still. Oh no, this was bad. If they couldn't get him back in the Netherworld, they were utterly screwed.

"What the shit!?" Betelgeuse swore. This too had never happened before.

"H-h-how!?" Adam stuttered.

"Ya think I know this shit?" The Beetle spat.

"Hey, you claim to be 'The Ghost With The Most', you should be an expert at this," Barbara taunted.

"Ya two ain't smart enough to understand shit," Betelgeuse growled. "This never happened before. Me being able to heal Lydia after my juice suddenly came back ain't happened before. If I knew what the hell was goin' on I can guarantee in the name of a sandworm's ball sacks that I wouldn't be here right now."

"I still don't understand why you weren't able to heal me when you got out, yet you were able to later," Lydia said.

"I don't get that shit either," The poltergeist rumbled, kicking up more dust. He would think about that later. For now he had to focus on making the Maitlands trust him. "And don't you two get any ideas on bad mouthing me to Juno, cuz it ain't gonna end well for you."

"You're a hazard, you bastard," Barbara replied, making the ghost chuckle at her accidental rhyme.

"If I was such a hazard, you two wouldn't be standin' here," He remarked simply. "And in case ya forgot, I _helped_ Lydia."

"Yeah, for a price I bet," Barbara continued. "What is it now, another marriage?"

"He actually didn't ask for anything," Lydia spoke up again. This was technically a lie, since he did ask for the scumbags who hurt her. Of course she didn't tell him who it was, since she couldn't trust in him to not hurt them. It was also true though, since he wasn't demanding a marriage or any other bullshit deal. "He helped me, okay? He healed my hands, see?" She held them up, even though it was pointless. They didn't see the scrapes before, so it wouldn't make a difference, but it was all she could do. He didn't heal her leg though, as she fixed that up herself the best she could. Besides, she wouldn't trust him enough to touch her leg yet. It would be way too intimate.

"As much as you two don't wanna believe it," The Beetle began. "I wanna protect Lydia as well, no deals involved. Come on, isn't a guy allowed to change for once? I'm tryin' here."

The Maitlands looked at each other as if they could read each other's minds. Betelgeuse waited, making his way over to Lydia. She was still mad at him for spilling spaghetti on Delia, but her anger had died down, even if just slightly. This was a good sign for the poltergeist, and a proud feeling swelled up inside of him.

Lydia glanced up at him just for a second, crossing her arms and shifting her weight between her feet. Damn, she was tired. She almost looked like a ghost herself, and this did not sit well with The Beetle. As soon as the two idiots would make their decision, whatever it would be, Lydia would go rest up before dinner. She needed the break before facing three more weirdos in the house, and strangers nonetheless.

"We've made our decision," Adam announced as the two turned back to the poltergeist and the teen. "We'll keep you out. But if you hurt her in any way-" Betelgeuse rolled his eyes. Adam really was stupid, wasn't he? "-then we're sending you back, one way or another. Curse or no curse. You may have healed her wounds, but you still have yet to heal any trust for you that the rest of us have."

"That was a pathetically poetic point ya made, Adam," Betelgeuse pointed out without restraint. "But hey, I'll take what I can get."

He held out his grimy hand, and Adam reluctantly but firmly shook it, forcing back a hurl.

"Right," The Beetle clapped his hands together. "So, I heard Delia's got some fancy artist assholes comin' over to buy her fucked up sculptures."

"Yeah," Barbara replied. "And we didn't know about it either."

"Dad and Delia don't talk a lot to them," Lydia explained to the poltergeist. "Since there's no ghost amusement park, there's not a lot of use for them anymore, although I disagree."

"Aww, thank you, Lydia," Barbara smiled, causing the goth to smile back.

Again, Betelgeuse rolled his eyes. He didn't have time for this sappy soft shit. "Hey, Lydia," He rasped. "I think you should get some rest before dealing with these idiots that are comin' over."

Lydia nodded. As untrustworthy as he was, today that seemed to change. She headed back to her room, leaving the three ghosts in the attic. Adam blinked, shocked that Lydia took his advice just like that. The unruly poltergeist juiced up a cigarette, leaning against one of the walls. He wasn't sure if he could go back to the Netherworld yet, not that he needed to anyway, so he stayed in the attic with the Maitlands, the three of them wordlessly standing there.

The Beetle smirked. Finally, the Maitlands were going to have to trust him. He didn't fully understand why things were happening the way they were, but he would figure that out later. For now, he settled into his victory, basking in it as he let out a generous puff of smoke.


	12. Praesagitio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts continue to wander, and battles continue to fight.

Lydia lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. Today was not an easy day at all, so she needed a short while to breathe. What was shocking though, was that Betelgeuse, yes, _Betelgeuse,_ was the one who suggested that she rest. Her mind was still not used to this side of him, being all.... nice...?

She shook her head, trying to tell herself that it was just another scheme.

But maybe it wasn't. He was...well, free...? Maybe? She didn't know if he could return to the Netherworld, and neither did he, and he wasn't planning on finding out anything soon.

Lydia's mind raced, the exact opposite of what it was supposed to be doing. He was able to heal her hands seemingly randomly, and the Maitlands were somehow unable to bring him back. This confused the goth greatly. She needed to find out what was going on after today. Today she would play the role of the burdening daughter and step daughter and watch as Delia would show off her four creepy sculptures. Just one more night, then she would get to the bottom of what the hell was going on between her and Betelgeuse.

A particular sentence floated around in her mind that the poltergeist said: _I wanna protect Lydia as well._

It swirled in her mind, his voice echoing and traveling. It seemed...sincere.

She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned, trying to fight herself. _No, Lydia. All he's done is cause you harm._ As if it were a battle, that thought was shoved aside as the image of the ghost doing one of his dramatic poses entered her mind, and the goth almost laughed. _Wait, no! It's just an act! He's just using you for his freedom!_ Another image; Betelgeuse flailing around during their wedding like a maniac, a near true comedian. _NO, he's not funny! He's a bastard!_ Betelgeuse carrying her down the stairs to the bathroom, his strong arms supporting her easily even though she squirmed, trying to face away from him. _He only did it to show off, get a grip._ Betelgeuse saying her name. _Yeah, so what if he knows my name? Besides I don't like it when he says it...no, I DON'T!!!_ Betelgeuse cradling her hand, as he waved his own hand over it, removing the scrapes as well some bits of the brick wall that Lydia has kept up for so long. Then the subtle but noticeable shock on his face with Lydia offering up her other hand to him... and he was surprisingly gentle...it was kind of... nice.

Wait.

"AAAAAARRRGHH!!!" Lydia cried out as she bolted upright, tearing at her hair. "No! No, no no no nonono NO!!!" She fought. She fought good, but not good enough. The recent memory of The Beetle cradling her hand, his touch cold but inviting, almost pleasurable and relaxing. The energy that flowed between them, almost calming and reassuring. Just almost. He hadn't pulled away, and neither had she. In that moment it was just the two of them, as if the world stopped spinning to shine a spotlight on them. Her breath had hitched, and her heart rate had sped up. If his heart still worked, if he had one, it probably would have been racing as well.

"No, Lydia, shut up!" Lydia scolded herself through clenched teeth, her hands in fists and her body as tense as can be, strung up so tight that she could be an arrow shot through the window.

It took minutes. Just a few minutes, but these few minutes were brutal and exhausting. She fought and fought against the thought of him, the very idea of him being _pleasant_ to be around. Her groans of frustration continued on as she battled her mind. No, she would never let her guard down around him. Not anymore. No.... no....

The war wasn't over, but the battle sure was. Lydia collapsed in exhaustion onto her pillow, a tear escaping her eye and rolling down her cheek. What the hell has she done? She should have known better than to let him out. She should have been stronger when she was on the floor as she bled. She should have forced herself to stand up and walk, no matter how agonizing the journey would be. It would have been less agonizing than the turmoil she was experiencing now... would it?

With shaky breaths, Lydia's heavy eyes fluttered closed. If there was any luck, she would sleep through dinner without being bothered. Not by Delia, not by the artists... and hopefully not by the poltergeist that messed with her mind every day.

.................

Betelgeuse had walked out of the attic, leaving the Maitlands to ponder their new haunting situation with their much unwanted guest. He grumbled to himself, juicing the cigarette away as he remained outside the closed door. Of course, his mind wandered off to none other than Lydia.

She defended him. She actually defended him.

The Beetle still needed time to process that fact. The same girl whom he forced into near marriage was defending his actions today, and _against the Maitlands._

 _Shit,_ Betelgeuse thought to himself. _This is easier than I thought._

He made his way downstairs, taking his time, making himself invisible to Delia who was hurriedly preparing the kitchen again. He snickered to himself, proud for making a wreck out of Red. She had it coming anyhow for being such a selfish bitch.

After wandering the house aimlessly for a little while, his eyes landed on the door to Lydia's room, and his body froze. He didn't want to disturb her, but a part of him nagged to see her sleeping again. She was actually quite cute when she was sleeping. Then again, he's always thought of her quite cute.

He shook his head.

 _Dammit, you asshole,_ He cursed himself. _She's not attractive. She's not. She's just a tool to get you free. Well...freer than whatever the fuck this is._

But her smile... her eyes... 

He gnashed his teeth, pulling at his hair. He had to stop this. Whatever his feelings for her were, he had to stop, for both her sake and his. As soon as all this shit was over, he would go back to scaring the shit out of the living and pounding into whores, and she would move on with her life, probably find a nice man to settle down with-

"AAAAAAAHH!!!" He cried out. The image of Lydia being with another man made his non existent blood boil. A man who wouldn't understand her, who would never relate to her.

He didn't need to breathe. He was dead. Yet he breathed hard and fast, and he felt like he was about to snap. He needed to get out of here, _now._

Betelgeuse attempted to teleport back to the Netherworld. Nothing. Fucking perfect.

He paced back and forth, fighting with his brain.

_Face it you piece of shit. Lydia's never going to trust you. Remember when you were barely alive? Do you want that to happen again?_

The Beetle's eyes snapped open, and a distant memory crashed into his mind.

She was the most beautiful woman he had seen in all the towns he had travelled to when he was alive. Then again, she was known as the most beautiful woman in town. All the other men attempted to woo her and failed miserably. When he made his move, she was curious about him. Their nights of passion started off strong, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world. She had healed him from the previous battle scars from his first lover. But after time the flame had died down and blown out, and she left him, drunk and heartbroken. Once again he was alone. Once again, he was tossed aside. And this time.... he was finished. He had found a rope from a nearby peasant's house. He carried that rope tightly in his hand as he painfully trudged up the hill to the lone tree at the top. After agonizing preparation, he had finally hung himself. The only problem was... it didn't break his neck right away. So there he hung, dying a slow, painful death, choking on the rope as well as the hopes and dreams that could have been.

The Beetle shook his head _hard._ Fuck, he didn't even remember her name. Luckily the memory of her face was hazy as well. But it all still happened. The passion, the betrayal, the pain...

No. He could not let that memory come back again. That was centuries ago. He had to move forward. So, with a grunt and a scratch to the head, he trudged his way to Lydia's room.

He stood at her door, hearing no noise. He knocked as gently as he could. No response.

_Just walk away, asshole. Just fuckin' walk away._

But he couldn't. He placed his hand on the door knob... and opened the door.

Of all the times he had been a creepy idiot, this was the one time where he did not want to be that at all, no matter how creepy this might have appeared to anyone else. He took a few steps forward, still leaving some space between him and the bed, and his eyes watched Lydia as she slept. Her breathing was steady and she appeared relaxed, yet his eyes landed on her cheek. There seemed to be what looked like... a tear stain? Had she been crying?

Betelgeuse sighed, not knowing what to think anymore. So he decided not to. Instead, he floated up near the ceiling, far from Lydia so as to not startle her when she woke, and closed his eyes, propping his feet up and closing his eyes as he lay there in mid air. While ghosts didn't exactly sleep like they did when they were alive, The Beetle was able to shut off from the world along with Lydia. But what really helped him relax was knowing that she was safe, and this made his short slumber all the more worthwhile.


	13. Hostis Novus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As three famous artists visit the Deetz-Maitland household, something doesn't feel right...

As the Maitlands resided in the attic and Betelgeuse watched over Lydia, Delia busied herself hurriedly setting up the table... again.

"Those ghosts!" She spat to herself as she slammed the spaghetti down onto the plates, nearly making another mess. "The sheer audacity! The nerve! The-"

_DING DONG!_

The sound of the doorbell perked up the Deetz woman's ears, and in a flurry she finished plating the food and setting up the table. Her feet started to lead her towards the door, but after the frenzy that happened mere minutes ago, she needed help.

Her eyes landed on her wine glass, and in no time she downed it all in one, swift gulp.

 _Ah, wine,_ Delia thought to herself as she placed her glass down and headed to the door. _Therapy in a fancy bottle! If only everyone would drink it the world would be less dull and gloomy!_

Clearing her throat, she straightened her replaced, non-spaghettified dress and opened the door. There, in all their splendor, stood the country's three most popular artists; Alastair Pensworth, who stood in the center, his dark brown hair smoothed back, almost reaching his velvet, crimson tuxedo. Regina Varesten, whose long, straight black hair reached her hips, curling at the ends like well used paintbrushes, surrounding her shiny dark purple, knee length dress. And Emelio Corbbs, his bright green eyes in stark contrast to his dark skin, enveloped in a black tuxedo along with a 24 karat golden watch on his left wrist.

Delia had to do her best to not freak out; these were _professionals,_ and for them to come out here in the middle of nowhere was enough of a boring drag for them. She had to keep her composure in order to please them. She may have been called a flake those wretched months ago, but today she would prove that she was anything but.

"Mr. Pensworth. Mr. Corbbs. Mrs. Varesten," She greeted, albeit with a slight nervousness in her voice. "Please, come in."

She stepped aside, letting the three celebrities make their way into the house.

"Delia Deetz," Alastair greeted. "The woman whose motivation was put on hold for the health of her husband," He glanced around the house, a certain look in his eye. "Not exactly what I had in mind for... helping, but nonetheless," He clasped his hands together. "We are here to see your sculptures that if, I remember correctly, you are trying to sell."

"Yes," Delia swallowed nervously, albeit keeping it as hidden as possible. "I plan to make a name for myself so I don't have to live in this hellhole of a town anymore."

"And to where are you planning on selling them?" Regina asked smoothly, running a perfectly manicured hand lightly over the railing of the steps to the attic.

"New York, of course," Delia replied. "My mind has simply been...taken advantage of from this horrendous place," She shuddered before moving on. "Now, dinner has already been set up, so we can discuss the matter of my art as we dine."

"Sounds great," Emilio grinned. "The smell of spaghetti has called to me the moment I walked in the door!"

Delia let out a forced laugh as the four of them made their way to the table. They sat around, Delia at the one end, Regina and Alastair sitting on one side as Emilio sat at the other. The other end of the table was empty of a certain Charles Deetz.

 _Dammit, where could he be now!?_ Delia seethed to herself.

"Thank you again for inviting us," Emilio began. "We don't often travel to the countryside."

"No, Emilio, we don't," Alastair near snarled. "And for good reason."

His eyes flickered in annoyance at the other man, who gulped.

"But no worries," Alastair continued at once, a smile plastered on his face. "We as artists must make sacrifices for our achievements. And if it means flying from our beloved cities to... _here..._ " He forced the word out with a near disgusted tone, "...then so be it."

Delia's heart panged at how often Alastair mentioned the sad conditions that she had to live in. No true artist would live in the country, there was nothing to capture detail from. One had to live in a place of bustling culture and crowds to draw inspiration from. All that was out here were old factories and stores, with some farms a few roads down. Not to mention the endless mosquitoes and other pests. In the cities, there was inspiration everywhere you looked. From the street vendors to the jewelry stores, from the diversity of people to the parties and gatherings, there was always an event to kick start a brainstorm.

"Well," Delia began, raising her empty glass. "I now pro- oh!" She smiled nervously, refilling her wine glass before starting up again. "I now propose a toast. To the three greatest artists of the United States, who have travelled so far to critique my sculptures." The three others nodded, and they all drank once before commencing the matter of Delia's art.

"So," Regina started after setting her glass down. "Where exactly are your sc-"

She didn't have to finish her question, as her eyes landed on them in the living room. The room was too dim before for the artists to notice the sculptures standing there, and they were set on settling in before discussing the matter. All eight eyes landed on the four sculptures, and there were a few short beats of silence.

"These..." Alastair began slowly, his hands clenching a few times before settling. "These are...yours?"

"Yes," Delia affirmed proudly.

"And...you plan on...selling these?"

"Yes, to the most popular museum in New York City. I want all eyes to see the blood, sweat and tears I've poured into my work."

There were a few more seconds of silence before some thumping of someone walking down the stairs from the bedrooms was heard. Delia's eyes widened as her husband rounded the corner in just his robe, hair wet and messy from the shower. He threw back a pill with one hand and swallowed it down with water from the mug in the other, before his eyes landed on the artists.

A beat.

"O-oh, hehe," Charles smiled weakly. "I see that the meeting was tonight after all."

.......................

Betelgeuse sighed to himself as he slowly floated around the goth teen's room, glancing now and then and her sleeping form. He allowed himself a small grin, for she really was a cute thing, especially when not yelling or throwing things at him.

He still had to figure out how he was able to heal her hands, so he made a mental note to do that tomorrow. For now, the teen took advantage of her much needed rest, and Betelgeuse made sure that no one else would disturb her at this time.

Suddenly there were some muffled noises coming from downstairs, and the ghost's ears were, well, all ears.

There was some laughter, the sound of multiple pairs of shoes making their way across the floor, the scraping of the dining table chairs. The Beetle took a last quick glance at Lydia to make sure she was still sleeping before thinking to himself.

So, the guests were here now, huh? Well then, by all means, the ghost would give them the show and scare of a lifetime! After that, no one would ever want to buy Red's bizarre artwork. There would be articles of how the sculptures strangled the artists by their throats, or hanging them upside down as bugs would crawl all over their helpless bodies.

The poltergeist's shit eating grin was so wide that his face damn near hurt, but he didn't care. He had to get revenge on Red for neglecting her step daughter, or-

oh, oh! OH!

He could get her to _leave._

Hahaha, yes! Oh, yes, he would get her to leave, and Lydia would finally be free of her torment!

 _But wait..._ he thought to himself. _That didn't work last time. All it did was increase their interests and ideas to get rich n' shit! FUCK!!!_

Hmmm... this would be tougher than The Beetle had thought. Although, maybe not, since no crowd is ever the same. His brain continued to ponder this over before his ears picked up something else. It was talking again, but it seemed... secretive. Someone was on the phone.

"Yes, I've found the house," The voice said. "Yes, this is definitely it. ..... Yep, I'm sure of it. ... All you have to do is sneak in there and sign the paper. .... Yeah, she doesn't like _anyone._ That's why you're doing it this way. ... You know how Betelgeuse gets, besides she'll just tell you to go back and do your job again. ... Right. Yeah. Okay, gotta go. I got four hideous sculptures awaiting me."

Shit. Whoever was talking on the phone knew his name, and by the sound of it, was familiar with him too.

Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have returned! I am glad to finally continue this story! Now we have to find out who this mysterious person is!? And what are they planning to do with Betelgeuse??? Stay tuned for more! Hahaha! *evil laughter* >:D


	14. Fabula Altera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greed is at hand... WARNING: EXPLICIT

Corani has never been a selfless man, whether in life or in death.

The greed of money and fame has wormed its way up through his being and fed its way into his soul like a starving parasite. In life, he would constantly trick others into forking over the scrumptious green bills and shiny coins, and yet no matter how much he got, his hunger raged on like a rabid, wild animal. In death he continued to do the same, both from the dead and the living.

On one particular night some years ago in the Netherworld, Corani's hand swooped up some dough from another poltergeist he had knocked out merely seconds before. He chuckled to himself, running a hand through the paper dough as if it were a dog.

"There's my precious," He sneered triumphantly, kicking the poltergeist's leg aside as he headed off proudly with his prize. "I got you now..."

As he pocketed the money, he heard some heavy moans from a nearby alley. Another cruel smile crept onto his face. He knew those sounds all too well; just another play thing of a prostitute getting money from a customer. He made his way toward the noise, and- ohoho, things could not be better!

There in the dark alleyway was one of the whores who worked at Dante's Inferno, being pinned to the brick wall as her customer shoved himself inside of her greedily, snarling in the process. Drool was dribbling down her jaw and neck, snaking its way over the heavy bite marks the man had encrusted into her cold, expired skin. One of his arms had wrapped around her tightly while the other pinned both her arms above her head near her wrists, digging in mercilessly. 

Corani licked his lips at the delicious event being played out for him before his eyes caught sight of a flash of gold on the whore's wrist. He looked closer, spotting rubies and sapphires in the bracelet as well. There was only one whore who was rich enough to own a bracelet like that: Trixie.

Trixie had been the lead whore of the brothel for years, if not decades, and here she was earning more cash and dick. One would think that she would be sore from the deeds she handed out each night, and yet here she was as strong as iron.

Corani could have kicked himself for not recognizing her customer sooner, but his jacket had hidden both him and Trixie quite well from any prying eyes. The black boots, the wild hair, the sinister laughter...

Betelgeuse.

Oh, hell, this was _too good!_

Betelgeuse, while claiming to be The Ghost with the Most, was not as rich as Corani himself. Sure, they were both expert conmen, but in the end Corani had the upper hand. Betelgeuse had been better at scaring and haunting on the spot, while Corani took a less direct approach. While they each liked both, and quite a lot too, Betelgeuse preferred pussy, and Corani preferred money. It was as simple as that, so they each used their own routines to get their desires.

While Betelgeuse may have not as been as rich as Corani, he was still up there. This grabbed hold of the onlooker, and he had decided he would take advantage.

The sounds of their orgasms echoed loudly, and the infamous ghost pulled out of her, tossing her a few twenties.

"Fuckin' shame," Betelgeuse muttered. "Yer not as good as ya used ta be, Trix."

"From what I heard," Trixie replied running a hand along his clothed torso. "Your moaning said otherwise."

"I was moanin' cuz it wasn't as good," Betelgeuse snapped back, re-clothing himself. "In case you forgot, this is yer fuckin' _job,_ so ya better do it next time."

"You're not the only customer we got, asshole," Trixie replied, also readjusting her dress and stuffing the twenties in her front. "And thank Satan for that, since-" she yanked at his hair and pulled him down to snarl right into his ear. "-they all give much better dick than you ever could, you disgusting piece of shit."

With that she lunged and bit down hard on his ear.

"OW!!!" Betelgeuse cried out, reeling back from her. "You bitch!!"

He stormed off down the alleyway, opposite of Corani. He didn't even notice the other poltergeist taking in the whole scene.

Trixie sighed, leaning back against the brick wall and wiping off the disgusting drool that Betelgeuse left behind. She took out the twenties and took a quick glance: only three of them. Sixty dollars was a bad tip for the Dante's girls, and it has rarely ever happened. And she was the _leader._ For her to make this awful of a tip was NOT going to sit well at all.

"Ahem."

Trixie jumped and whirled to her left, and there stood Corani, sneer and all.

"It seems you have a problem with your clients," Corani stated smoothly and casually. "And from what I've heard, Betelgeuse has always been your best client."

It was true, he was. His dick was terrible, but he paid enormously, so the whores would let him visit when he needed some relief. Besides, he was the most infamous poltergeist in the Netherworld. He may have been a poor lay due to his overall disgusting display, but if he had cash and a name, they would do it, albeit secretly hesitant.

"Only when it comes to paying," Trixie replied. "He's absolutely disgusting. Just because you're dead down here doesn't mean you can remain a rotting corpse while fucking around."

"I agree," Corani said, moving to stand by her. "He is quite vile. But I have an offer to make with you."

Trixie's ears perked up at this. "I'm listening."

"When he comes round next time, how about... apologize."

"Me?!" Trixie fired back in shock. "Why should _I_ be the one to apologize when-"

"No no no, Trixie," Corani chuckled, waving his hand. "You're not at fault here. This is just between you and me. Just pretend to apologize, and get him to come back. Do whatever it takes. And no matter how disgusting he is, pretend to enjoy it. You need the money, right?"

"Yes," Trixie rolled her eyes.

She didn't need the money, no. For staying in her apartment, yes, but she could cover the rent easily each month. At this point she was using her well earned cash to drown in alcohol, drugs, and other useless "luxuries".

"How about," Corani continued. "You do this, as well as pay me what you are given, and I'll make your life _paradise._ "

Trixie considered this.

"What exactly are you proposing?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, I could be like a... what's the term these days? A... ah! A sugar daddy for you."

"Pfft," Another eye roll from Trixie. "Yeah, right."

"It's true. I'll buy anything your devious little heart desires," A wicked grin spread over his face as he said this. "It's not like we'd be a couple... unless you'd want to be."

Trixie took her time to consider, and in the end, she accepted. Over the months, whenever Betelgeuse would return, she would falsely but convincingly praise him in bed, and she would leave with LOADS of tips. Yes, this was her way out. Lots of dick and lots of cash. What else could a whore possibly want?

.............

Two short years later, Corani laid back in his pile of cash, proud of his success. He had found his ways to make Trixie believe he was honoring her, when in reality he did this all for himself. He laughed to himself, picking up a pair of laced panties from the night before.

"Ah, Trixie," He mused to himself. "What an amazing cunt you have, and what a terrible brain you posess."

He licked a long stripe along her wet panties before tossing them aside again, smacking his lips and tasting her flavor.

Some minutes later he stood, stretching and heading out the door. He needed a nice little victory walk, a moment to congratulate himself for taking advantage of both the most well known poltergeist and the most popular whore in the Netherworld.

As he strolled on, he heard some distant voices, and he swore that he heard Betelgeuse's name.

"Have you heard? He tried to marry a living girl! To earn his freedom!"

"She's not your ordinary girl, either."

"If she's not careful enough, she might fall in love with the bastard! Then she'll be a goner for sure!"

"Looks like he's not exactly letting go of her, either. I heard him the other day muttering about 'that damn Deetz girl' as he headed through the alleyways."

Corani continued listening, and alarm bells rang in his head. This was not good. If it was true what they said, then Betelgeuse would probably stop going to the brothel, and Trixie would not get paid, meaning _no money for him._

Corani had to think fast, so the next day he visited Juno, pretending to be concerned for the living girl's welfare instead of showing off his true intentions.

"It looks like he's been in contact with her," Juno had told him. She had already discussed the matter with the Maitlands and made them sign the contract, so it was no longer her problem.

Corani was not eager to stick around after Juno said that, so he dashed off.

FUCK!!! How would he get his money now!?

Suddenly he remembered. The Deetz girl had parents. He would find out what their weakness was and play it to his advantage. Yes, yes, this would work. All he had to do was find out where they lived, spy on them, and bingo, he would be in.

The conman smirked proudly to himself, rubbing his hands in excitement.

Oh, yes, this was going to be _fun._


	15. Anxietudo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was time to figure out what the hell is going on.

Betelgeuse's phantom blood was racing and boiling as he paced in Lydia's room. Who was this person? How did he knew Betelgeuse? Was he a reincarnation? Was it a disguise? The poltergeist seethed to himself about this as he thought it over, his brain attempting to work overtime.

Suddenly there was the sound of light rustling behind him and he turned around, finding the goth girl sitting up and blinking tiredly.

"Babes," He said in relief, starting to head over to her. Her eyes landed on him and she jumped with a squeal.

"No!" Her voice boomed, making the ghost raise his hands in surrender and back off. "You... you stay over there..." She continued, pointing to somewhere _not_ close to her bed.

"Fine," The ghost scoffed, rolling his eyes, before returning to the matter at hand. "Listen, babes, those so called artists or whatever the hell are here, and-"

"I know, asshole," Lydia grumbled, crossing her arms. "They're here to get Delia's sculptures, so what?"

"Pfft," The ghost scoffed again. "I bet even those lowlifes would see Delia's crap as a shitty waste of time."

This caused a small smirk out of the teen, to which the ghost gave a smirk in return. Whether they would admit it or not, the two were getting slightly more comfortable around each other. It was a slow progress, but it was progress nonetheless.

Betelgeuse stared almost softly at Lydia, taking a better look at her features. Big and hooded dark brown eyes, straight but ruffled hair from sleep, and a singular tiny freckle underneath her right ear. No one else would have noticed it unless they also took a closer look as well. Something stirred lightly in the ghost, and he was tempted to wrap her up in his arms and plant kisses and bites around her freckle and ear and-

_Not now, asshole! It ain't the time._

Without the two of them noticing, Betelgeuse has somehow subconsciously moved closer to Lydia, so that he was suddenly standing just about a foot away from her. Huh. Apparently the ghost's feet had a mind of their own...

Lydia sat there on her bed, watching him cautiously but curiously. Although gross, The Beetle's appearance was interesting and intriguing. This prompted questions to pop up in Lydia's mind. How did he die? Why did it happen? How old was he? What century was it?

"I don't know if I asked you this yet..." Lydia began slowly. "But...I was wondering, if you're okay with telling me... how you died...?"

There was a beat of silence, before the poltergeist let out a rumbling sigh, scratching his head. Lydia took this as a clear sign of nervousness.

"Suicide." The ghost answered simply.

Lydia blinked in shock. Him? The one with an ego larger than Saturn? She couldn't believe it. Well, she sort of could, but his display of narcissism and "me me me!" hid the cause of his death extremely well.

Her gaze wanted to meet his, but he had a hardened expression as he looked over at one of the walls.

 _I probably shouldn't have asked him that._ Lydia thought to herself, but even as she thought this her body had a mind of its own as she stood up off her bed gradually and took a few steps toward him.

 _What? No! What the hell are you doing!?_ The teen criticized herself. 

But she couldn't help it. 

He had helped her heal from being attacked on her way home from school, and for whatever fucked up reason that floated around in her head, she wanted him to not be miserable as well. Her heart was too big. As introverted and drawn away from society as she was, there was one thing she knew about, and that was showing care for others.

She stepped right up in front of him, which finally made him turn his head back to her, and their gazes locked.

 _Damn..._ Betelgeuse thought. _She's pretty._

Lydia was nervous. She knew what she wanted to do, but fear was fighting back strong. _Very_ strong.

This was the man who had caused her hell just 5 months ago, and now here they were, not just in the house, but in her _bedroom._ 5 months ago, Lydia would have probably barred her door and windows as much as possible, and if she knew that he could travel through mirrors back then she would have smashed hers without a drop of hesitance. So why the hell were things different now?

Well, it was simple... kind of. He wasn't being as much of an asshole as he used to be when they first met, and he hasn't hurt anyone... yet. She had to add that last word in her mind, for she expected if anything went wrong,whether he caused it or not, he would become a violent tornado of chaos. Lastly, he wasn't trying to harm or take advantage of her, he was actually being decent.

She took a mental deep breath before slowly reaching out to him with both arms. Betelgeuse's eyes darted at her, his eyebrows furrowing, but in just a few seconds he was in her gentle embrace.

In a hug.

From Lydia.

Lydia was _hugging him._

It took a good few seconds for the realization to dawn on him. Almost no one has hugged him in the past 600-ish years he's been dead, at least not tenderly or out of kindness like Lydia was doing just now.

As gradual as she had, The Beetle lowered his arms around Lydia, making sure to only touch her upper back as if to say he wasn't about to do any sly and dirty shit.

The two stood there, just holding each other lightly. No words, no sounds, just the two of them in a gentle embrace. And it felt good. Not just to Betelgeuse, but to Lydia as well. As grimy as he was, he didn't smell like cum and beer this time. While the smell of cigarette smoke still clung onto him, it was overpowered by the smell of nature, like a damaged forest after a very heavy flood or even a hurricane. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but it reminded Lydia of going out into the woods to take pictures for her photography class. The smell that clung to him now smelled similar to a morning after a heavy overnight storm. These were days that Lydia enjoyed taking photographs the most, seeing the leaves and grass shine from the rainwater and the decaying logs and branches stark with death from the wetness.

"I'm sorry," Lydia said lowly.

The Beetle furrowed his brows at her.

"Fer what?"

"For asking about your death."

"Pfft, nah, it was a damn long time ago. I ain't affected by it anymore." While that second part was a lie, Lydia didn't need to know that. He couldn't be weak in front of her. He's been weak too many times before in his life, resorting to being an alcoholic to try so much as not to even _think_ about the woman he fell in love with. He was a ghost now, and an infamous one at that, and he had to keep his reputation, which meant no weakness, _no matter what._

Two women had violently gouged out his heart, in the metaphorical sense (luckily), so in his death The Beetle had vowed to never show weakness again. Love was just a stupid fantasy, anyway. Why cling to one person when you could do whatever and whoever you wanted? Without someone else, he was free. He was independent. He was...

lonely.

Weakness had been a virus to him, worse than the black plague that he had lived through when he was young. And yet right here, right now, he held the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, in life and in death, and it caused a warm feeling to gently course through his dead, gross body.

Lydia pulled back, still trying to process what she had actually done.

She had actually hugged Betelgeuse. And he had hugged her back.

The two lowered their arms from each other, standing there awkwardly. Well... what now?

"Uh..." The ghost started, scratching at the back of his neck again. "Thanks..."

"Yeah," Lydia replied, nodding and pursing her lips. "Sure thing."

A few seconds later, and the words were out of him before he could stop them. "It was just these two whores," He said, trying to brush it off with a wave of his hand. "Messed me up."

Lydia nodded, still curious.

"When were you born?" She asked, going back to sit on her bed.

"1351."

"So you lived through the black plague?"

"Yeah, I was just a little shit during the peak of it. Even through my adult life there were still many sicknesses around, and the fuckers didn't have any actual medicine back then, just herbs and shit."

"Wow," Lydia said. "Must have been a lot."

"Damn right," Betelgeuse replied, floating into the air and hovering, kicking his feet up. "Dead bodies on every corner just wallowing in horse shit and flies."

"Wow," Lydia was grossed out, but more intrigued. "I wish I could go back there and take some pictures. I've only seen dead bodies in movies, but it sounds more creepy as the real thing."

Betelgeuse was perplexed by her. He knew she was into the supernatural and weird, but corpses? His mind had to do a double take at that.

"I gotta say, yer weird, babes," He commented, not sure if he meant it as a compliment or not. Luckily Lydia gave him a small smile in return.

"Not as weird as you, manwhorpse."

The two had to chuckle at that, and ease settled more smoothly in the room. Little did they know that down in the dining room a certain dead conman posing as Alastair Pensworth was evolving his plan. He would get his money, no matter what it took, and he would tear apart Betelgeuse in the process. That was something he would make damn well sure of.


	16. Imago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust is a fickle thing.

It has been about two weeks since Lydia got jumped and harrassed on her way home from school. Ever since then she would take a different way home, and luck would be on her side as she entered her house injury free. The Maitlands and Betelgeuse were of course happy about this, but they all feared that whoever has been hurting Lydia would find out her new path home.

The Maitlands and Betelgeuse have hesitantly learned to be more civil with each other over the days, and have even shook on the fact that they would make sure no harm would come to Lydia.

Now Betelgeuse and Lydia were lounging in her room, him having a beer and her finishing up her homework.

"Ah, finally," Lydia sighed in relief, dropping her pencil on her desk and slumping in her chair, closing her eyes. "No more bullshit to deal with for the rest of the weekend. Except for you of course." This last statement was directed at the sly poltergeist in the room, who merely shrugged.

"Hey, I'm used to it," He grumbled, taking another swig. This earned a smile from the teen, and the mood in the air was light.

In the last couple weeks Lydia and Betelgeuse have learned to become civil to each other as well, since "friends" was too strong of a word for both of them now. Hmmm... people who don't hate each other all the time? Acquaintances? Just two people who chill together even though they've shared toxicity between them before? Yeah, something along those lines.

The Beetle stretched his limbs with a groan as he floated in the air, his grip still strong on the bottle. Damn, he needed to get out, to stretch his legs. Yet he still wasn't sure if he was allowed to leave the house. Juno had assigned the Maitlands and Lydia to watch over him, but there was not a lot of fine print to go by. No, scratch that, there was nada. In fact, he was quite surprised that he hadn't even tried to weasel his way out of this weird binding contract. That's what he's always done, both in life and in death. And yet, something was holding him back...

In the back of his mind, he knew that something was Lydia. It was obvious. In a weird way, she was able to keep him grounded and steady. She apparently didn't even have to do much; all she had to do was look at him with those beautiful eyes and he wanted to just melt into them. He kept these thoughts to himself of course, not wanting to scare her off or have another weird curse placed on him. He wanted to tell her that he thought she was beautiful, that she was unique, but he would forever be unable to. He's already done enough damage, he wasn't going to start up another, not with her at least. He wanted to fuck up the Maitlands a bit more just cause he was bored, but for Lydia's sake and to keep her trust he kept it to quite the minimum.

"Fuck," He grunted, stretching again.

Lydia turned to look at him, crossing her arms in annoyance. "What?"

"I needa get out."

"Pfft, where?"

"Shit, babes, can't a guy just take a walk?"

While Lydia wasn't quite fond of the nickname he'd given her, he continued to use it to tease her. He liked making her roll her eyes at him instead of throwing shit at him. She allowed it, but she made sure that he knew she didn't like it.

Nope. Not at all.

"We don't know if you can leave the house," Lydia said, shaking her head to free her mind of his silly and kind of adorab- no, _demeaning_ nickname for her.

There were a few beats of silence before The Beetle got an idea.

"Hey, look, fer whatever reason we kinda have a... for lack o' better words, connection. If the two of us got out for a bit I probably wouldn't get eaten by a sandworm."

"Uh huh," Lydia replied, unconvinced. "Sure."

"Hey, maybe you can show this old ghoul where ya take yer photos."

This put a spark of interest in the goth, and the idea didn't sound as ridiculous anymore. Besides, it would be nice to get out of the house once and a while without fearing for her safety since Betelgeuse could protect her.

But wait...

"Hang on, I don't think anyone would be thrilled to see me with a gross middle aged man who most likely hasn't taken a shower in a few centuries."

"Come on, babes," The Beetle said with a chuckle. _Damn_ she was adorable. "Did ya already forget who yer watchin' over? I'm the Ghost With The Most, remember? Ya know I can be invisible to whoever I don't want seein' me."

"True," Lydia said with a shrug. "Well, we can try. But if you do _anything_ -"

"For the millionth time, I ain't gonna do shit," Betelgeuse snarled. "Hey, the only thing I did was douse Red in her terrible dinner, but only cause she deserved it."

Lydia had to smile at that. She never liked Delia, so seeing revenge finally take action did brighten her spirits a bit.

"That's also true," She agreed, smiling at him.

"Alright," The Beetle rubbed his hands together in excitement as he floated down to walk. "Show me where ya get yer inspiration."

They headed down to the front door, Lydia bringing her camera along, concern crossing both of their features when they reached it. Would this really work?

_No. Don't be weak._

This thought bombarded The Beetle's mind as his teeth clenched and his hand snagged the door knob, flinging the door open.

Grass. Walkway. Sky. No sandworms. No Saturn.

_I can leave the house._

He wanted to marvel at the fact that he's not doomed to be in a sandworm's belly, but he shook that feeling away. He couldn't show weakness. Even if he could lay low he didn't mean he had to stain his reputation.

His shitty... toxic reputation...

_SHUT UP!!!_

He forced himself to step outside, plastering a fake but convincing grin on his face.

"Finally," He released, throwing his arms open to let the sun bathe him in warmth. "Some goddamn air."

The two headed to Lydia's first photography spot, an area on the edge of a nearby forest next to a lake. The moment couldn't be ignored and Lydia started snapping away, taking in the beauty of the nature that surrounded them. The poltergeist watched her, fascinated and entranced by her obvious joy at being out here. The way the sun caressed her face made his heart twist, and her smile and aura made him feel at ease. He didn't notice it right away, but his posture was more relaxed as he watched her. And no, not the cocky swagger he's put on for so many centuries... no, this was real ease. No mask or acting needed. It made his cold, dead body feel... warm.

Suddenly an idea crossed his mind, and before he could stop himself he called out to Lydia.

She turned to him, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. This made The Beetle's hard shell around his heart crack as he held out his hand.

"What?" Lydia said, confused.

"Gimme the camera."

"Why?"

"Just do it," He grumbled with an eye roll.

She did, albeit hesitantly, but something inside her said that she could trust him.

"Alright," Betelgeuse said, backing up a few paces, raising the camera to get a shot of her with the lake behind. "Pose."

"N-no," Lydia said, blushing in embarrassment, rushing back to Betelgeuse to take the camera from him. "I'm not..." She didn't know how to continue, but her silence said it for her. Suddenly her mission was remembered and she reached for her camera, her fingers only brushing it as Betelgeuse snatched it farther from her like bait.

"Ya ain't gettin' this back 'til I get a shot of you," Betelgeuse said, his tone voicing that he would not take no for an answer.

"Why?" She asked, wanting to just take her camera back and go to the next spot. Why did he have to be so difficult?

 _Great,_ The Beetle thought to himself. _How the hell am I gonna get out of this now?_

He wanted to tell her she was pretty. Hell, he practically _needed_ to. She made his heart sing, and she deserved to know... but he couldn't say it. It would just get lost in translation.

His brain fought with itself before he surrendered, holding the camera out to its rightful owner, who gladly snatched it back before making her way back to the path to reach her next destination.

And yet, something inside Lydia wanted him to take that photo of her...

..................

It had taken about an hour and a half for the two to reach all the places Lydia enjoyed snapping photos. Each time Lydia's joy had shown through, and while Betelgeuse mind nagged at him to take the camera again to capture her in the moment, he let her have her time. He didn't want her to lose her trust in him, and he was surprised yet grateful that she didn't make them walk back to the house earlier than needed.

Now Lydia was finishing up snapping shots at her last destination, proud of her work. The sun was setting and a soft orange glow sighed over her features.

This was it, Betelgeuse thought to himself. This would be the shot.

This time without warning, he swooped her camera out of her hands and wasted no time as a CLICK! sound entered their ears.

"Hey!" Lydia protested.

"Too late, babes!" Betelgeuse smirked proudly, waggling both the camera and his eyebrows. Luckily he let her have it back, and the teen's eyes fell on the photo of her.

Apparently Betelgeuse has done this before, since the shot was perfect.

It was taken right before Lydia realized what he was doing, and her eyes were towards the lense as she looked over her shoulder. The light breeze caught her dark hair just right, the sunset complemented her features in the best angles, and her long black shirt was frozen in time dancing with the wind around her arms and back.

Lydia stared at the photo, tears forming in her eyes. She looked...

"Beautiful."

She glanced up at the voice, finding Betelgeuse looking out at the lake as he leaned against a tree. But they both knew very well that he wasn't talking about the lake...

For the next half hour, the only sounds to be heard were cicadas chirping and the rustling of the grass, along with the melody of a goth teen crying in joy into the coat of a wiley, clever, and satisfied ghost.


	17. Not a Chapter, maybe the end of the story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.

Hey everyone. I don't think I will continue with this story, as I have lost my dedication to it. My heart has switched to focus on another fandom, and I am considering posting fanfics of it. I'll always be in the Beetlejuice fandom, but my mind works like one of those circular multi record players that holds multiple records. I have a lot of fandoms, but I only focus on them one at a time. So no, I'm not leaving the fandom, I'm just re focusing on another one. I'm not sure when I'll return to focus SOLELY on the Beetlejuice fandom, but it might not be for a while. I hope you understand. If you wish to

Thank you to all of you who have been devoted to this story. I am sorry that I am unable to continue and finish it. My original thought was to keep my account just for one fandom, but I found out that doesn't work for me and I want to/need to put my different interests here to express myself. 

Again, thank you all for reading and understanding. Fanfictions about the fandom I've returned to will be up soon, hopefully, if college doesn't get in the way all the time.

Have an amazing day, and thank you for coming on this journey with me.

<3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr account: brightredsunset88


End file.
